My Dream
The Mountain wears a shroud of clouds and the River is draped in mist and fog. Somewhere behind these curtains, Spring is hiding. Only two weeks until she comes out. Already there are buds on the trees and bushes. The first robin has appeared, the tried and true harbinger of Spring. Seed catalogs are arriving in the mail and the first Community Garden meeting is this Saturday.
It is hard to believe this vicious winter will ever end. It has been a long haul and tiresome beyond belief. The last day of sunshine was a month ago. The overflowing gutter dripped on my head this morning when I went out for the paper. The dogs track in mud every time they go out. Even the indefatigueable kids that play in the street have stayed indoors.
They tell me this is the perfect preparation for my trip to Scotland where the weather is similar. The difference of course being that when it rains in Scotland, it is in beautiful SCOTLAND not in ugly dreary Oregon. I think I would not mind the rain if I could go out and walk on the moors or listen to the waves crashing on the shore of a wild and stormy sea. Here I just watch the rain puddles in the Walmart parking lot or listen to the crashing wrecks on the slick Interstate.
This is without a doubt the ugliest place I have ever lived. I have nothing to look at that touches my soul or lifts my spirits. And the people are equally dreary all bundled up in their Columbia coats and trudging along with hunched shoulders.
I could leave. I could move. I could get the hell out of Dodge. I don’t because of three little persons who are special in my life. Ember, Oliver and Levi. If only I could persuade their parents there are better places to live. I cannot figure out why my children who were raised in a better place chose to settle here.
Maybe when the grandkids are a little older I will be able to take them with me back to Missouri for the summer. I could rent a place on the Lake and enjoy the warmth and sunshine and get together with my friends. I would like for them to have a taste of “down home.”
That’s my dream.
It is hard to believe this vicious winter will ever end. It has been a long haul and tiresome beyond belief. The last day of sunshine was a month ago. The overflowing gutter dripped on my head this morning when I went out for the paper. The dogs track in mud every time they go out. Even the indefatigueable kids that play in the street have stayed indoors.
They tell me this is the perfect preparation for my trip to Scotland where the weather is similar. The difference of course being that when it rains in Scotland, it is in beautiful SCOTLAND not in ugly dreary Oregon. I think I would not mind the rain if I could go out and walk on the moors or listen to the waves crashing on the shore of a wild and stormy sea. Here I just watch the rain puddles in the Walmart parking lot or listen to the crashing wrecks on the slick Interstate.
This is without a doubt the ugliest place I have ever lived. I have nothing to look at that touches my soul or lifts my spirits. And the people are equally dreary all bundled up in their Columbia coats and trudging along with hunched shoulders.
I could leave. I could move. I could get the hell out of Dodge. I don’t because of three little persons who are special in my life. Ember, Oliver and Levi. If only I could persuade their parents there are better places to live. I cannot figure out why my children who were raised in a better place chose to settle here.
Maybe when the grandkids are a little older I will be able to take them with me back to Missouri for the summer. I could rent a place on the Lake and enjoy the warmth and sunshine and get together with my friends. I would like for them to have a taste of “down home.”
That’s my dream.
posted by Free Spirit at 2:32 PM
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