Myopically Just Across the Road

The dictionary defines myopic as a vision problem resulting in not seeing distances well; or a lack of foresight or discernment; or a narrow view of something. In this instance, it is the narrow view I want to address, in a very good way.

I’ve always been drawn to the small details around me, such as one small flower growing in a field of grass, or a particular pebble in a stream; but for many years now I’ve realized that I also have the ability to pick out the greater beauty of my surroundings, disregarding the power lines, the cars and trucks, the close proximity of other buildings, as well as other distractions.

Maybe living in the city helped me develop this ability. While I sat on my deck in St. Paul, overlooking my postage-stamp-sized yard, I would comment how lovely it was with its Euonymus, or Spindle Tree in delicate bloom, and the border of lilac bushes. Sure the neighbor’s house was 10 feet away, and the utility lines cut across my yard, and the alley threw up dust every time a car drove through; but I was able to overlook all that to see the microcosm of beauty there. Where other people saw the congestion and urban ugliness, I focused my sight with near-sighted accurateness on the pleasant aspects of my surroundings.

Now, Ripley is about as non-urban as you could want, and yet there are buildings and areas that I prefer to look beyond. For instance, there is a view from the front windows of Meeder’s Restaurant that I find very tranquil and mesmerizing. If you look across the street to the southwest, if I have my directions straight, there is a cluster of trees and shrubs behind a rustic wooden fence, between two houses. There is nothing wrong with the houses that border this bit of paradise but if I block them from my mind, I can see a cornucopia of color there in the fall, inviting me to shuffle through the leaves or stand with my face toward the heavens letting the falling leaves flutter toward me in their graceful dance. In winter I can almost see the horse and cutter trotting across the clearing, bells ringing, its passengers wrapped in woolen blankets, laughing with rosy cheeks and wide smiles. Spring brings the delicate pastel tones of green to the budding branches; summer the cooling shade beckons a blanket to lie on and a tall glass of lemonade.

I break one of the 10 Commandments every time I gaze at that marvelous piece of landscape – I covet my neighbor’s property. But I am also content to sip my coffee amongst the chatter around me, exchange bits of conversation with my fellow diners, and occasionally escape with my eyes to the tranquility of a small piece of the world just across the road.