I've been thinking lately about "the view." When I visited my grandparents in Florida, they always took great pains to find a restaurant with a beautiful, unique view. We always took a table by the window in order to admire the scenery.
My best friend, when she visits from Japan, also encourages me to find a restaurant with a beautiful view. We once enjoyed a picnic inside of a vine-covered gazebo in the middle of a beautiful garden. We ate tree-ripened peaches, freshly-baked bread and cheese made from unpasteurized milk (I haven't been able to top this picnic experience yet).
My great-grandmother loved to drive and look at the lights at Christmas time. She loved the circus and the spectacle of the lady in white riding an elephant. I suppose as one ages and freedom is restricted, we further savor the ability to travel.
Yesterday I took two of our young adults and one of the younger boys out for a drive. We visited several of my favorite local spots. I wanted to linger by the lake, to sit for awhile in a shady garden and to climb the steep stairs down to the river in order to see the fish and the rocks at the bottom. They, however, were "finished" with most of the sites by the time I'd begun to settle in.
I hope to teach them that "the real thing" is better than any picture or postcard. I also hope that, at a minimum, they remember a few of their mom's favorite views.
