the town in which i live

When we first moved here, people would ask how we liked it.

“It’s a small town without the small town charm.”

That seemed the nicest way to say the truth: I didn't like it. Not because the distance to the freeway or the lack of grocery store, though those things do make everything a little difficult. No. The real reason was the overflow of houses, all seeming the same. There are no houses that were 70 years old with their walnut trees with swings in them. Then there was the mountains. Oh how far away they seemed, leaving us out here with the desolate sagebrush and dry tumble weeds stuck in fences. There are no bookstores for us to peruse on quiet Friday nights. And even though there is a library, it is too far to walk to so what use is it to me? No cafes for buying French sodas and writing away in quiet corners. I wondered how we had found ourselves out here.

Like turning on a light after sitting in a dark room, my eyes slowly began adjusting to the small world I found myself in. I think it began in my own front yard, with our small apple tree that yields large, sweet apples. Then it was the blossoming pear tree that cools us with its lazy shade and that houses our little bird feeder. Then I saw around the corner where my neighbors wild flowers grow happy and free.

I began seeing that the houses and their gardens were unique, just like their owners. I fell in love with the house with the weeping willow, with its front room full of books. Or the two houses a couple blocks away, one wild and untamed and the other planned and particular, yet both so full and happy with color and flowers and birds.

We learned that the gas station has the most decadent, moist Dunford Donuts so who needs a grocery store. And the library, which is still growing, has story time for our little ones to enjoy. There is the little Chinese restaurant and the pizza place with their family deals and food that makes my mouth water. And a little ice cream shop within walking distance. There are winding pathways where runners, walkers, bikers, families, and individuals share the love of fresh air and movement.

And then finally I saw it, as the sun goes to sleep and I look up into the night sky. With no street lights to crowd them, the stars dance and sing for us on clear nights. Oh yes, this town in which I live holds little secrets of beauty and wonder, even if I still hate the sage brush.