What I LIKE

I came to this conclusion a few days ago...I don't like--well, what is it I don't like? Strip malls. Chain restaurants.

I am enchanted by the idea of middle America. Cute little neighborhood diners and family-owned hardward stores. I love local artisans. I love local chefs. I much prefer writing about what I love rather than what I don't like!

I love little villages. Local charm that oozes out of historic cottages, and coffee shops I can walk to early in the morning for a fresh cup of french roast and a crusty peice of something. A neighborhood bar where locals gather any time of day to find comfort in the familiar.

Colors! Not concrete and stucco--unless it's salmon and torquoise (although I've never been to the likes of New Mexico or Arizona, this is what I envision there--and what an art mecca!). I like to steep in the culture of a place. And even in what may seem like the simplest of towns, there is rich culture to observe. What is culture? (I love to look up words in the dictionary.)

Culture: The totality of socially transmitted behavior patterns, arts, beliefs, institutions, and all other products of human work and thought.

I love it!

As I sat in my Orlando condo, filled with all a Disney-visiting family could need, I craved everything that place was not. Something unique. Little visions to feast the eyes on. Fortunately for me, I have 3 little visions that I devoured for the week. Their shining faces in the shadow of that giant castle were art in it's purest form.

We ran across a crane family of some sort one afternoon. Mom, Dad, and fluffy little baby...in the back parking lot of a mini-mart. We fed them some Doritos. They were so used to humans, we thought they might jump right in our minivan. They were teaching their little baby the way of man. The Mama was feeding her baby Doritos right out of her thin, pointy beak. What kind of birds were this new breed? So sad.

Little wooden homes, sometimes unnoticeable from the street, incorporated into the natural flora and fauna of a place. Wildlife undisturbed. Indigenous plants growing wild--not sculpted in to extraordinary shapes or patterns. Natural paths gently encouraged to lead me to the next reflecting spot. Always they in the lead though.

The trickle of water, or the flow of it. I could sit and watch water flow, well, I don't know for how long. I'd like to say I could do it for hours, but I may need to work toward that. For now, in the suburban home that I love (and don't like at the same time), I'm going to focus on the listening to the water--really listening. I'm going to watch the dozens of birds in my backyard. I'm going to feel the soggy ground under my bare feet. I'm going to smell the wet pavement, because that is what I have. All of this is mine to experience, if I take the time to pause and pay attention.