I wake to the blaring of a garbage truck’s backup signal. So incessant! As if backing right through the second story window we left open through the night.
Yes, yes, I have so much nonsensical junk inside my head I could fill that truck. Just the same, I am happy when the truck changes directions—the alarm dying at once—and rumbles away, gradually shrinking.
New, smaller sounds overlay the truck. A lone dog barking below the canopy of street-side trees. The steady whine of heavy traffic streaming toward Cleveland on a distant highway. A single car slapping at the cracks in the paving as it passes by on the street directly below. And, finally, a robin chipping from someplace in the tree nearest our window.
Fully awake, I peer out the window.
Look at that, will you.
Perfectly trimmed lawns. Attractive islands of trees and flowers. Basketball hoops. Shiny cars. Home after perfect home. Beautiful in its own orderly way.
Welcome to Medina, Ohio.
We can walk to a store if we wanted. Nearby is everything you might desire. Furniture outlets. Fine dining. Hardware. Sporting events.
But what I really want is to see a mountain with a little snow clinging to the top.