This was the view from the house last Thursday night. We’ve had just enough snow off and on for the last week to close schools (but not work, as we take in the kids when they’re not in school), and make driving a little tricky. In fact, it’s supposed to snow tonight.
I visited my new doctor last week for the first time; it was a forty minute drive through winding country roads on a cold, clear day, and for a little bit, I was absolutely in love. The beauty of the trees with their brown leaves still clinging to branches as they bent gently over the small, remote road was absolutely stunning to me. I thought, “Yes. This was the right choice. I want something like this.”
The magic was quickly lost as I left the more affluent farms and saw small mobile homes with steel Confederate flags attached to tall, blue poles. I then reconsidered the history of the land; that the country homes I was so admiring were once the work places of an abused people, and I felt quite sick at myself for being so easily influenced by the scenery.
Once again, I do not seem to know where I truly fit. But, despite frequent moments of doubt, I do still have a niggling feeling that this may have been the right choice to make for me.
And I think it’s important to be aware of life’s moments of beauty, like the picture above.