Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Linger as long as you can

I think I've mentioned we live on a hill here in Seattle. We were lucky to find this condo with its huge picture windows and a sliding glass door that leads out to the deck. Standing at our kitchen sink, I have the most incredible Cézanne-esque melee for a view; tall pines in the foreground, freight trains and houses tucked into pines on the hill across the way peeking from behind. Which is nice, say, when you're on your fourth round of baby bottle washing that day. Or if you go right up to the window and press your face against it, as Ben likes to do, you can also see Salmon Bay and all the fishing boats moored there. Even the Cascades, on a clear day. We're losing light fast here, but this week we've had some captivating sunrises and sun-drenched afternoons, and believe me when I say we're trying to find ways to can it for the winter.


This hill we live on, however, demands a sense of purpose. And lots of deodorant. The car groans and lurches its way up. Fiddle-y fit cyclists dismount and walk after a point. I once found myself three blocks from home, working through the logistics of ditching our $500 jogging stroller and the groceries we just bought and returning for everything with the car. I got over the hump, literally, but since then we've stuck with the baby carrier for any foot-powered excursions. Truly, even the squirrels and racoons appear to have unusually large calf muscles around here.

When you're in the midst of everything, whatever your things are, it can seem like you'll never make it. But you will. And once you're there, standing at the top of the hill, hopefully you will have a moment to admire the view. Glance back at where and who you've been. Linger as long as you can, because chances are, you'll never be able to find this exact spot again. And just when you thought you had made it, the next hill is right there waiting for you (and it's looking like a doozy). But sure as the sun, you'll make it to the top of that one too. The racoons aren't the only ones growing stronger with every step.

2 comments:

Rebecca Galvan said...

that last paragraph hit home for me tonight. LOVE your writing. write on, sister. love you

kim said...

Thanks Becky! I didn't realize my readership base had jumped to three. So happy to know you're here too.