The View from a Few Thousand Feet Away

From a plane window, I saw the aerial view of my hometown

The old armory and the new pharmacy, the road that makes a long, lazy S around the grocery store and west to the fire station.

I grew up a few blocks east in a house on top of a hill. Enough of a hill to leave you short of breath and heart pounding.

From the plane window a few thousand feet away, I looked for the hill. But there were no hills east of the fire station. Just roads flat as paper.

Which was when I realized that from this perspective, the hill wasn’t much of a hill at all.

And later, when I told my father about it, we agreed that it wasn’t a bad thing to keep in the mind. The spirit, too.

That if we give ourselves the view from a few thousand feet away, it can render a hill flat as paper.

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