What is it about a vista that appeals to us? The balance of color and texture, of breadth and height? Is it familiarity? A place that reminds us of a yard or a hillside we knew long ago?

I was thinking about this while on a walk yesterday. I took that route because of a specific vista that I knew I’d see from it. But more than halfway through my stroll, I realize I’d missed it. The view I was remembering was from a winter vantage point.

I love the green profusion we have now. It’s most welcome, especially when it’s hot outside. But with it comes a narrowing of vision, a lack of perspective. The new growth cocoons us, keeps us from harsher realities. And that’s fine with me. I’ll accept that trade.