One of the things I deliberately appreciate is a beautiful commute. After growing up in an area dominated by fields of something (and always wishing I was somewhere else), every day I see the water breaking over the reef is a special blessing. On the way to work, I notice flowering trees and shoreline. On the way home, I notice how the clouds paint themselves around sharp volcanic ridges and ancient peaks.

As the sun lowers, the clouds change into beautiful pinks, lavenders, and eventually dusky purple and blue. Add in afternoon water vapor, and rainbows abound. It's all the colors I wore on my eyes in the 70's. Geez, I miss loud eye shadow!

Living in Colorado, I used to thank God every day for the front range view that took my breath away on the drive home. I could see from Pike's Peak to Long's Peak. I also learned that looking at mountains was romantically moving, but getting up amongst them wasn't the nirvana I always believed it would be. Once you're IN the mountains, you can't SEE anything much! Well, you can when you get up towards the top, but the top of a fourteener sucks the breath out of your body and gives you a bad headache.

Knowing this didn't lessen my appreciation for mountains. It made me enjoy the view from my commute even more.

And now, because visiting my roots is a rare pleasure and privilege, I find myself watching the fields of whatever as I drive, feeling happiness all the way to my core.