Leaving

As I look out my bedroom window toward the canyon in the gray morning mist, I know it's time to leave.

The oak tree that was just a sapling when we moved here has grown so tall that, slowly and inexorably, it's taken the center of the canyon view. In winter, when the leaves are gone, the view emerges through the bare branches. But now that it's spring again, the full green leaves prevail.

I chose this house for that view. I liked its other qualities, as well, but it was the view I most loved.

Over the years, as we terraced and planted the part of the canyon slope that is ours, we pulled the view into our own back yard until now, we're immersed in the beauty of exquisite nature.

It feels complete and whole. Gently and lovingly, I give thanks and release.