A Good View—Altitude or Attitude?

Adams Avenue—Normal Heights

The November and December sunsets in San Diego were out of control, and the first one that I recall occurred on November 21st. I was sitting in my car, in traffic, becoming quite agitated that I wasn't somewhere else watching this magnificent show! Going nowhere fast, I snapped one shot from the car and just as soon as I arrived home, I leapt out the car, headed to my personal "view" spot (the middle of my street) and snapped a few more.

My View—Looking West

As most of us witnessed during these two months, it seemed we were having an inordinate amount of car-stopping and jaw-dropping shows in our San Diego skies. Social media images were prolific from all over the county, people sharing their captures literally from their point-of-view, some to the west with their ocean views, others from further east with colors vividly painting the mountains and skies, and then there was me, feeling stuck in between—on the ground. I would get a hint of what was coming around 4:30 pm, looking out my office window, fumbling for my nearest camera (usually iBlanca) and braving the traffic on North Mountain View Drive. From the center of the double-yellow lines I was witnessing some of the most magical moments, east and west—the atmospheric conditions, aka clouds, were providing the sun with an infinite canvas in the sky and he was using all of the paints in the box. And yet...I was feeling frustrated. I wanted to be higher and unobstructed—damn it! I made a mention of that to a fellow sunset follower and his quick response was something like, "You should be grateful for what you have." Slap. Not taking that message in fully I responded with, "I am grateful, and there's nothing wrong with aspiring for something more!" How dare he.

Sunrise

Fast forward a few weeks—still feeling like my views were some how not enough, or inferior to other people's views, wishing I had my ladder so I could get on my roof and dream of that second story, becoming obsessed with chasing sunsets, most nights dropping my work and hitting the ground running to capture "my view" of this December magic—then this happened. I felt a bit like Dorothy in her ruby-red slippers when on this day, morning actually, I was up early enough to witness the sunrise. My house faces north, with expansive windows facing east, and this isn't the first time a sunrise has taken my breath away, but on this morning it reminded me of how in awe I have always been, and grateful for, photographed and shared the amazing sunsets and sunrises, right here in my own home—my sanctuary. And in that moment I had a return to Kansas—a return to Grace, back to my regularly-programmed positive and appreciative thinking—I have a good view! It wasn't about my altitude at all, it was simply and profoundly about my attitude. Adjusted.

Side Note: Now this doesn't mean that I am not striving for a home someday with an unobstructed view, it simply means that I am—for now—going to love the view I'm with!