A House with a New View

Until I was twenty-one years old I lived with my parents in their house on a hill.  I remember gazing with wonder at the strange roads and odd buildings on the hill across from ours. I simply loved the view.

Many of our preferences and priorities are rooted in our early experience.  I still like my hot dogs with mustard, but I prefer my hamburgers with ketchup as well.  From my father I learned the importance of saving money.  From my mother I learned to be curious. Both curiosity and saving money are priorities in my life.

And I have always preferred to live in a house on a hill.  My first law office was on the eighth floor of a building with a ten mile view through floor-to-ceiling windows. Until last week, I have lived in a home where I enjoyed a spectacular view of the San Fernando Valley.

Even so, I have often indulged my curiosity and visited an “open house” in my neighborhood.  Two months ago, on a Sunday afternoon drive home, I passed an “open house” sign on a nearby street.  I decided to take a look.

The house was Mediterranean in style with a red tile roof. I had passed it many times on my early morning strolls.  I expected to find small rooms and perhaps an updated kitchen.  What I found was a home that had been completely rebuilt, with beautiful landscaping both front and back.

The seller, a television set designer, had entirely redesigned the home from the rooftop down to the three-car garage.  As I walked through it I felt like I was in heaven. With windows on all sides and few walls, the house was filled with light.  The kitchen and family room were designed as a spacious great room that opened to the pool and garden.  I could throw a football to my grandchildren from the kitchen, through the dining room and entry hall, all the way into the living room.

There was one significant flaw to this otherwise special house.  It rested at the bottom of the canyon and had no valley view.

I told my fiancé that I loved the house.  She said she loved it too.

“Could you happily live here for the next thirty years?”

“Yes, I could.”  She hesitated.  “But if we kept on looking do you think we could find something better?”

I smiled.  “Not likely.”

Outside of writing, my priority is to take action.  Whenever I worry I ask myself if there is an action I can take.  If there is, I take it.  If not, I stop worrying.

I had lived gladly in my house on a hill for more than forty years.  It had served me and my many children well.  All of us had cherished the view.

Even so, I bought the new house.  My fiancé and I moved in a few days ago, and today I’m writing this blog from a sparsely furnished office near the kitchen.

Do I miss my Valley view?  To my surprise, not at all.

Instead I thoroughly enjoy a view which is quite different from what I am used to.  Our second story master bedroom reminds me of sleeping in a treehouse floating among the trees, with a close-up view of the leaves ­– worthy of my wonder for many years to come.

While we form many preferences when we are young, from time to time we might also enjoy, actually or metaphorically, living in a house with a brand new view.

Alan