I’ve had the opportunity to spend the past week or so just a few feet away from the Potomac River. I grew up on the Potomac and have some vivid memories of it. The weather is cold in Virginia now so there’s no temptation like there is in the summer to run out and jump in, clothes and all. I often feel like a Labrador Retriever that can’t wait to hop in, running at full speed until I just fall forward into the warm water. But when that’s not possible, I’m forced to look through a window or from afar to soak in its beauty.
In the past week, I’ve been fortunate enough to see the sun shine on the water, sparkling with laughter and lapping at the shore teasing me. In the evening, it turned black and syrupy as the moon shone over it, washing it in a white light that glistened. The wind blew so hard one day that the white caps warned of the impending chop and danger of a journey that shouldn’t be taken on that day. Lastly, I saw waves reaching for the shore but suspended in time, frozen by the wind and cold.
Each morning, after getting ready to head to the hospital to partake in my daddy’s recovery, help him walk again, encourage him, support him in any way I can, I pass by the window that faces the river. The view grabs me. I stop as I glance up and I’m trapped by the beauty of the expansive water. It seems friendly and inviting. I stare and try to take it all in. I’m drawn to it, my feet unable to move. I forget what I was doing and realize that I have to snap out of it and get going. I wonder if I’ll be able to sit and stare at lovely scenery when I’m older, when I don’t have places to be or things to do. When I don’t have a schedule or an agenda. I picture snow capped mountains, lakes with loons, green prairies, streams with jumping fish, grazing moose where I can spend all the time I want to take it all in. Paint the scene on my brain so that I remember it forever but know full well that I don’t have to remember it because I
can go visit it again the next day.
As I grab my things and head to the door to leave, I wonder if people who are fortunate enough to have a view that is beautiful and inviting get tired of it. Does it become every day so it gets camouflaged with the surroundings, allowing them to rush by and no longer see it? Does the beauty wear off? Do they ever need a change of scenery? I dream of having my own beautiful spot to stare at someday in this world. I’ll share my view with those I love and cherish it each and every day.