The other side of the mountain

There is a young girl sitting in the second row of the classroom, lips pursed, with eyes that scream, "I'm bored!" She is dressed in a burnt orange shirt, casual faded jeans, and used-to-be-white sneakers. A geography book clothed in an aqua book cover lies on its back, cracked open to the hundred sixteenth page or so, staring at its unenthusiastic owner, only begging to be read. Her eyes' focus slowly moves away from the distant hall to the textbook. The girl examines the images printed on the tattered corners of each page then looks up to her heavyset teacher happily illustrating a mountain on the immaculate white board. Lesson two of this particular chapter tells of the two sides of the mountain: the dry and barren leeward side and the moist windward side abundant with flourishing flora.

Do you recall this lesson that was explained during your high school geography class? Maybe not. I am one to admit that this subject never captured my fancy nor was it a class where I received exceptional marks in. (Truthfully I got some B's and I have a bad behavior grade for chatting too much.) Despite this disinterest, this particular concept caught my mind and struck me on a number of occasions lately.

I have willingly flipped the optimism switch on, and embarked on a journey to settle into the windward side of the mountain. My eyes have longed to see the greener side of the grass. My hands have yearned to bask in its glory. Triumph has trailed only steps behind me on this expedition. It was only days ago were we united.

I'm afraid I won't be needing to dig a deep hole of intricate details for you, nor will I draw any of sort of vivid image that will exhibit every facet of my situation. However, I must share these words with you: things are far more pleasant on this side of the mountain.

The top headlines in MY newspaper? My name listed on the insurance policy on ALL our cars and earning the flag solo. Perpetual try is such an excellent trait!