No matter. I have a good book started, but have been distracted, not just by bowl games, but by anticipation. There is a trip in our future with a free night; a night that requires a view.
We used to be more ordinary in our needs and frequently clean, quiet, and Fox News took care of the highest priorities. But we also travel to places we may never return to, and in those cases, my heart desires a vista to draw upon for future reference.
This time our trip is to Seattle. Blake wants water in his background and I have spent several hours tripping across the 'net for a hotel, a B&B, with the right combination of distance, expense, availability and photo ops from the window. A place to walk would also be nice and coffee, of course, but we are talking Seattle here.
The fall before last, we hit the jackpot not once but twice with views. The first was pleasant and typical of the lakes region..we liked it well enough to add a night to our stay, grilling, dining and reading there until no daylight remained. The second place was way out of the way north, at the end of a gravel road that turned to tree roots. It was cold and dripping when Blake returned to the car with the key to our cabin. 'She's a good salesman,' he said. 'She convinced me this was the better view.' And it was breath taking. The cabin leaned over the lake. Seated at the table, I felt I could trail my fingers out the window into the water. The mist and rain shrouded the view to the small island nearby so I couldn't decide whether I was seeing the wreckage of someone's boat, or a shanty, or some natural occurrence of woods and rocks. The cabin was cold but we lit the stove that night until bedtime, then huddled under lots of down and listened to the rain on the lake.
On the Colorado River we stayed where the patio looked over the sites where Western movies were filmed. The layered cliffs loomed high and caught the western sun setting. You could stare at the river and rocks for hours, instead of your books.
I may get back there...it just takes a week and a car. But the sailboat sunrises in the BVI are not a sure thing and I remember each anchorage. The sunrises are quiet for the most part....folks are on vacation and there is no rush. But you can just stand on your bunk, point your camera out of the hatch and an artful shot just appears. With hues that you can't find in the great Midwest. When its snowy, like now, I just like to look at those blues and aquamarines, unaltered by any lenses or computer programs, and feel fortunate to have been there to take in the view.