High on a Hill

High. On a hill. A lofty place. Up with the birds, blue sky and tree tops. A place of airiness and perspective. Not a place to look down from on others, but a place to gain a larger view of the world around me.

As a youth I grew up on the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains in southern California. Just below the Mount Wilson Observatory; a large ‘W’ was cleared from the pine forest, and the ground cover chalked white. That ‘W’ was visible for miles and miles; on TV, when watching the Rose Parade or the Rose Bowl, we longingly sought out camera shots of the ‘W’ and say, “that’s near where we lived.”

Mount Wilson was maybe 6000 feet high, maybe a bit more, but in the grand scheme of the Rockies, that is just a hill. Still, Sunday drives took us up into the mountains. We would look out toward the ocean; even on smoggy days we could tell where land ended and ocean began. But on a clear day (rare in those days!), we could see Santa Catalina Island. And all was good. In the world.

Of more importance to me was the vista on the world from that perch. We could see the mountain ranges more clearly, we counted trees nearby, but gave up for the long view. Tens of thousands of trees? Or maybe millions? A forest, nonetheless, and a reminder that we were surrounded by nature. Wonderful. Aromatic. Fresh. Airy and free.

Yes, we could look down from the mountain and spot towns and cities. Couldn’t make much sense of it, of course; much too complicated. And at my young age, I didn’t truly know where I was anyway.

But the altitude gave us the big picture view of the world. It was good. It was fulfilling. And it was thought provoking. We were small like flies on a wall. Not superior or all-knowing. Just high up and able to see things.

Even today I welcome a higher view of things; not always possible in a flat place like Illinois. Of course, there is the Sears Tower downtown Chicago; but that is a view on others, their cars, their buildings, somehow much too close to be a world view like from a mountain top.

I wonder how others view this, too. Do they see this as the chance to spy on other lives? Or to feel superior to them? Or do they seek a higher perch to see beyond their current horizons?

See beyond. Current horizons. Our boundaries of understanding and knowledge. Our limits to culture and place. How many of us seek to see beyond? Are we reaching? Are we even curious? Are we excited by the prospect of discovery? Of finding out something new and fresh that makes our lives fuller and more meaningful?

I wonder about that. In this time of introspection and blaming others, are we seeking the right answers to our problems? Or are we even seeking answers?

Perhaps that is a question worth pondering. And answering.

May 10, 2018