Daily I drive this length of road. Along the river, winding through the narrow valley, then turn where the creek arrives after its long descent and joins with the larger waters. Follow the creek up and through the trees beside pockets of land rich enough for a couple of centuries of farming. Even the ancient native peoples knew this to be a good place. Knew this creek, these fields, these trees, the glory of the changing seasons here.
I would complain of the loss of small farms, the houses sprung here and there, but I am part of that. My home less than five years old in a (small) development of even newer homes. And that's not what I want to say anyway.
I want to say that I see it all. Every day I drive this length of road and I truly see it. There is never a time of drifting away on my commute, never a time I do not remember how I get where I am going.
Morning, afternoon, sometimes in the evening, I see the smooth beauty of the water sliding or falling or bubbling over the rocks. I see the wildlife--the heron in the shadows, the deer in the field, the kingfisher, the cardinal. I see the changing light on the mountains, the shifting colors.
And while I do not always heed the voice in my head that tells me to "pull over, take a picture" (as I finally did today), while I don't always listen...
I do see.
And I am always grateful.