A Different Life?

Yesterday turned out to be one of those cold, and rainy days that is typical of a New York State Spring, and the type of day that I don’t particularly care for either.

Bored, I walked around the inside of the house, looking out through the windows watching the rain and gloom. It’s funny how you can look outside like that, and allow your mind to drift off and sometimes wish for different things. Not that where you’re at is bad or anything, but just wondering how you would perceive a different life.

For example, I would love to know what it feels like to live in an old Georgian plantation – not just a visit, but to actually live there. What it would be like to go to bed there each night, and wake up there each morning. What it must feel like to stand on a huge porch and look out over the landscape, and discover the scent of Magnolia trees (if there is a scent) in the heavy morning air. I wonder what it must feel like to walk down a long driveway that’s lined with Oaks, heavy with Spanish moss on the branches that have created a canopy over my head, and know that this is home.

Even though I hate snow, I would love to know what it feels like to live in a Aspen mountain home. What it’s like to look out though a large wall of windows and see the Sunshine on the snow covered land while the fireplace crackles with a warm fire. I wonder what it feels like to do the same while a heavy snow falls, covering every thing in feet of snow. I would like to know what it’s like to smell the pines while drinking a cup of coffee in the morning.

I would also love to know what it’s like to live in a ranch house in Montana. What it’s like to look out over vast expanses of open land, and see the Rockies off in the distance, and discover what it’s like to witness the change as the Sun moves across the sky.

If I had a bazillion dollars, I would know and have memories of these things, but – I don’t, and will never have a bazillion dollars, so all of these things will have to be someone else’s memories and experiences, and not my own.

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