Saturday, September 03, 2011

Living in Town

Here we are, behind the white picket fence, still hanging pictures, still shelving books, still opening boxes, still looking for the pink USB, the clock that hung in the breakfast nook, various bits and drills, things that got stowed away when we first arrived that we haven't seen since, and what we really search for is that sense of settlement that probably won't appear until the last picture is placed just so, and the book shelves have been sorted into some semblance of order and when we grow used to gazing across the street at the neighbour's pretty garden

rather than that lovely vast expanse of mountains and sky and the distant valley, stretching out into meadows and blue haze.  How lucky we are to have spent most of our married life in that environment.

And now, how lucky we are to have neighbours who come to visit and welcomed us with baking, and supply us with tomatoes and cucumbers and freshly picked carrots and beans out of their town gardens.

And how wonderful it is that Charles can get up and shower and dress and steer his cart up the road, around the corner, and arrive at the Senior's centre where they are always looking for a fourth for bridge and his social life has expanded just as wide as that lovely vast expanse of mountains and sky and distant valley.

We pick up the mail just around the corner and the library is a short stroll down the road.  A nice clear area of undeveloped parkland opens up to the benchland that rises behind us, and there are those mountains and bluffs and white clouds and  blue sky that we see now from a different direction, but they are as lovely as ever.

I look out my kitchen window into what seems like a deep forest of pine and fir, lightened by the sunlight on the leaves of nut trees and great long bamboo like shoots that slide their huge and glorious leaves through the fence into the side path that divides us.

Life doesn't always have compensations as fine and comforting as those we are enjoying in our ancient days, and so we are grateful for what each day brings, and maybe next time Charles makes a Grand Slam he will have been brave enough to have bid it!!!!


Wanda..... said...

The description of your new life, behind that white picket fence, has a sweet-sounding acceptance to it. So many things in life are bittersweet, but they hold wonderful new adventures for us or our loved ones. My granddaughter's move to Washington State comes to mind.

The Weaver of Grass said...

I am so pleased that it has all worked out well for you and that you are obviously settling in quite happily to your new home.

Sallie (FullTime-Life) said...

I'm so glad to read about your new home and walking distance of all those lovely places sounds like a pretty good trade. We have neighors out here in the country (where we stay when we're in Oregon) who can no longer drive -- no matter how much they love it out here, it isn't the right place for them.
It is a blessing to know when it's time to change and accept it with grace.

VioletSky said...

Moving is always so bittersweet. Nice to hear the positive side of an obviously difficult change in lifestyle and scenery.

Barb said...

You're sorting through your things, Hildred, but I can tell, in your mind you've already found a satisfaction with your new surroundings. Your views there are different but still lovely.