The Long View

I like living where I can see the long view every now and then, but I wouldn't want to live on the rim. Horizons have always made me nervous.

Recently, an elderly friend said, off-handedly, that she'd just as soon not be around next Christmas. I thought she meant she hoped to go out of town at the holiday. She explained that she meant she'd like to be dead. She hurts, she's sad a lot, she has lost her husband and many friends, and she spends a great deal of time reading or falling asleep in front of the television.

To her, the horizon -- an ending -- is beautiful. 

I will probably feel the same way one day, but for now I'd rather live blocks away from a view, on a gently downward-sloping hill, on a swerving road, surrounded by the woods.  

For me, the view is a surprise. May it always be.