The day my sunrise view disappeared

Twenty-seven years and now this.  I can’t believe the sunrise view won’t be the same ever again?

I’m ashamed I took it for granted all these years.

Isn’t that how we feel when we discover our proclivity for something as it is about to leave our lives?  We don’t appreciate it as much as we should have until we see it slipping away from our view.

When we built our house, we chose the spot strategically in between the neighbors’ lots across the road.  Our kitchen window faces the open field.  We’ve enjoyed having a clear view of the sunrises.

I adored watching the sunrises as I washed dishes.  That penchant has been replaced over the years.  My husband is way better at loading the dishwasher (his bias, of course, he sees how things fit better than I do – it’s a guy thing??).  He’s discovered my gift is unloading and putting the dishes away (as the sun sets…it takes me a really long time to get the gumption to help out.). 

Our clever cat, Alex, loved the early mornings.  He would sit at the edge of the driveway, watching the cars go by, waiting until it was safe to cross.  He’d run over to the open field to hunt.  I remember his inclination to be a safe hunter.  I don’t miss his tendency to leave critter remains on our doorstep (ewe, that was gross!).

Ah, there are the memories of our children running to catch the bus as the sun came up.  Their adorable little legs running with their backpacks bouncing as they ran.  Or all the times we waved to them as they drove off in their own cars.  We’d always say a little prayer for their safety.  We still do.

My how that tree to the left has grown over the years.

In the summertime, Copper and I yearn for early morning photography adventures.  He loves to join me as we watch the sunrise.  We sit together in the driveway and watch the dew sparkle as sun rays hit the grass.  I sip coffee and he sniffs the air.

Here I thought empty nest adjusting was tough…now my favorite sunrise views are gone, too.

Damn, the more I focus on it, the more I’m sure of how much I’ll miss the unobstructed view of the sunrises.  This past summer they were beautiful.

I know, I know, I must fuhgeddaboutit, move on.

As the sun rose this morning, I sat down to pay our property taxes as a faithful citizen of the county.  Every year I have to remind myself to be thankful for the arrival of ‘TAX BILL ENCLOSED’ envelope.  Even if our sunrise view has changed, it’s a good thing to remember we have a home over our heads.  We built it together with love.

Yes, he removed trees in preparation for something to block my view, but I’m slowly finding compassion as I write out the check.  They are starting out and building something they will love and cherish just like us.  They, too, will have to pay property taxes.  (Paybacks are hell…I said I’m slowing finding compassion…jeez.).

When the new neighbors move in, I’ll have to take them a framed picture of the day he removed the trees.

I saw him as he jumped off the bulldozer, pulled out his camera, and snapped a few photos.  He was smiling and pretty darn proud of his accomplishments.  (Yeah, I was the creeper neighbor who watched him do the dirty deed.)  I glanced at him several times over the day.  He was too busy working to notice the sunrise when he started or me snapping the picture when he got done.  Hmm…maybe there will be interesting things besides the sunrise to take pictures of next summer?  (Yikes, I’m such a creeper…)

Daily Post Prompt:  Proclivity