Beauty close by

Driving to my parents house from the west, you have to drive by this piece of property, probably 100 acres of undeveloped "ranch land." I put the quotes because I've never really seen more than 10 or 15 cows, and most of the property is in a flood plain. I don't know how useable it is for grazing or raising cows or sheep or other livestock, but that 100 acre plot is one of my favorite places in the world.

When my parents built their house in their suburban neighborhood 7 years ago, it was on the growing edge of northeast San Antonio. It was well within the city, accessible to major freeways and all of that, but still separate enough to feel like you weren't in the middle of town. Since then, the area has exploded with shopping centers and gas stations and more track housing than ought to be legal. Except for those 100 acres.

One corner of the property in particular will probably always be one of those memory sweet spots that lives forever in my mind. It's on a gentle rise, so it fills the horizon as you drive past it. Every spring the landscape progresses from blues to yellows to whites with little spots and speckles of reds and orange when the wildflowers bloom in succession. It seems like a piece of Montana, transplanted close by so that I can either stoke my longing for the wilderness or at least continue to believe that I'm a mountain man in my heart.

I'm grateful for the little reminders that even as things drive forward and grow skyward, there is still hope for open spaces and natural beauty. Someday the owner of that property will pass on, and that wonderful piece of property will pass into the hands of someone else. I hope they love it as much as I do. Or I hope that I have enough money to buy 100 acres of woods in the middle of suburban San Antonio.