Sometimes I forget to be grateful. Today, while watching the grandkids run beneath a beautiful maple tree, I remembered to be thankful. I live in one of the most beautiful places on earth. It was a long road to get here, paved with numerous obstacles that threatened to keep me in the Bay Area, but I made it. I wanted more than anything in the world to give my grandchildren a sense of beauty. I wanted them to see deer living as wild animals, I wanted them to feel the dirt beneath their feet as we hiked a country road. I gave them rocks to better understand the world, enough hugs to fill an ocean, but most of all, I hope I gave them the idea of a different life, one not lived in concrete jungles and manmade parks. (Not that there is anything wrong with that.) I just wanted them to see the world more from nature's point of view. We have gorgeous fall foliage in the Sierra Nevada foothills. Maple trees and Aspin creep between the pines with a surprise of color and sometimes, when the light is just right, the leaves have an almost supernatural glow. Unfortunately, as hard as I try, I am unable to capture the color I see. Leaves carpet the streets, an amazing cacophony that sets your senses on ear, striking a chord within you that rises with thanksgiving. The scent of fire lingers in the air, swirling around, warming the heart and the soul. Beauty resides here. Bridgeport is less than ten minutes from my front door. The Yuba river is a wonderful place to hike, pan for gold, or even contemplate your navel. During the summer months the river provides a lovely place to picnic and hang out. I believe in taking care of our forests so we don't have catastrophic burns. I have seen the results of those fires up close and personal. I have seen our postal employees delivering mail with wet rags tied around their noses and mouths so they don't breathe in the particulates. It is a silly pointless immature point of view that doesn't allow for management. At least in my opinion. Now, lest my mind wander off into a rant, I will finish with our local news and police blotter. 1. A caller reported a theft of sodas. 2. A caller reported someone left nails in her driveway. 3. A caller reported a subject sleeping on the back porch. 4. DA files bear poaching charges. 5. Family dispute over dog lands man in jail. No murders, though we have had some, no guns, though there is the occasion, no gangs which equals no graffiti, and generally we laugh at the police blotter. I moved here for a slower pace of life, for the peace my backyard brings, and the beauty of the seasons. I moved here for my grandchildren, though it has meant missing out on some important things in their life like sports and a few birthdays. I think, no I hope, I've made up for those missing appearances by giving them a place to run to when they need a break from life. Which is all I ever wanted. (((hugs))) Louann Comments are closed.
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