bankers hill

Every weekday morning, after having prevailed against the forces of man and nature that are intent on foiling my efforts to do so, I deposit my children safely at school and drive myself to work. It's an easy drive, just a few blocks on surface streets and a jump onto the freeway; hardly enough time to appreciate the elusive solitude. At one point during this fleeting interval, I crest what’s known in these parts as Bankers Hill.

There is no shortage of scenic overlooks here in San Diego, it’s a beautiful city. Those of us lucky smart enough to have taken up residence here know that the beauty of our home reaches far beyond the spaces sought out by visitors. We’ve all got our favorite places; our glimpses of the familiar yet breathtaking splendor that passes before our eyes day after day after day.

One of my places is that crest in Bankers Hill that I traverse each and every day. I know it like the back of my hand, not from the repetitive viewing, but from the impact. It’s not just a view that I see in passing, it’s a sight that I see. I look. Every day when I shift from uphill to down, I look.

I don’t know what it is about this view that pleases me so simply but I do know that I’ve always found my solace at the water’s edge. I love a good mountain or desert as much as the next guy, but nothing compares to the impact of water on the eyeballs, don’t you think?

This photo isn’t exactly it, I’m a little to the left of wherever the person who snapped this image stood. But I’m way too busy driving savoring my morning moment to capture a live photo, and really... I think it’s close enough.

Good Morning, San Diego