I woke this morning to this:
Ping. Ping. Ping. (The sound of a ball hitting a metal bat)
“I got it, I got it, I got it!”
Red, white and blue canopies covering the parents watching their kids.
Cheering and team chants.
Coaches coaching.
Kids running to bases.
Baseball.
From the deck of my bedroom window (and from the back porch of my family room) I have a clear view of the goings on in the athletic field that lies behind our house.
Soccer, people playing frisbee with their dogs, dads throwing footballs to their kids. Every sound that comes from this park is a happy one. A deep, satisfying pleasure to take in. Another Pleasanton experience to drink in and savor.
But there is something about Baseball. It feels and sounds and looks so All American. No matter the color of the teams’ uniforms, all I can see is the red, white and blue. Freedom rings with every “ping”. And there is no point in trying to hold back the smile that comes across my lips as I listen and watch.
I know that I’m saying this two days after celebrating the birth of our great country. But I am living in a community of people that seem to celebrate its birthday every single day. And not just with fireworks and barbecues.
They do it in the way that would make our forefathers proud. By looking out for their neighbors. By their friendly smiles and conversations. By gathering on front porches and in the streets. And getting together every Friday night at the downtown park to share dinner, music and sweet friendships.
They know and support their local businesses. They walk more than drive and say hello to each person they meet along the way. And when they meet you, then linger and listen.
It is a step back in time that I hope never changes. A step back that is a little bit closer to how it once was. A step back that puts them a million steps ahead of other places.
My little picture of the land I love. My little foretaste of heaven.
Come see us and take a little step back…
