Goat Hill
Goat Hill is an aptly named neighborhood. It consists of houses perched perilously on a steep hillside, affording them great views of Lake Washington. The access road is mostly old single lane, steep and winding. On one end of the neighborhood road is this sign:
In Meadow's youth, she was very goat-like when running in the forest, scampering up and down hillsides and rock outcroppings. While she never got the chance, I'm sure she would have loved chasing a mountain goat in its natural terrain. On this morning's walk she has to content herself with memory and fantasy while we brave cold winds, strolling through Goat Hill.
Way off in distance are the skyscrapers of downtown Bellevue. Every time I see a view like this, I'm reminded that in 1956, Bellevue's hospital didn't have a maternity ward so I was born in a Seattle hospital. Bellevue had one stoplight back then. The tallest building was two stories. My, how Bellevue has grown in the last 55 years.
During our stroll, Meadow and I found a wee bear resting against a rock.
Thinking it looked a little familiar, Meadow moved in for an introductory sniff.
The bear looks lonely, maybe even hopful Meadow will pick him up and take him with her. But no, Meadow feels it's best he stay there in case his true friend returns, looking for him. Lots of small kids in strollers go by this spot. I'm sure someone is missing him and will come looking.
The lost bear reminded me of this photo of Meadow and her own wee bear:
Meadow has always had a stuffed toy that she keeps with her, nearby, in sight. The other dogs know that it belongs to her. The bear now sits atop the piano because sometimes Meadow plays a little rough with him (especially when teasing Finn) and his stuffing is coming out. He's already been through one corrective surgery; I'm worried how many he can tolerate. Meadow now has a purple bunny as replacement. The bear has a special back story; I want to make sure he survives.
In Meadow's youth, she was very goat-like when running in the forest, scampering up and down hillsides and rock outcroppings. While she never got the chance, I'm sure she would have loved chasing a mountain goat in its natural terrain. On this morning's walk she has to content herself with memory and fantasy while we brave cold winds, strolling through Goat Hill.
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| Goat Hill view. |
Way off in distance are the skyscrapers of downtown Bellevue. Every time I see a view like this, I'm reminded that in 1956, Bellevue's hospital didn't have a maternity ward so I was born in a Seattle hospital. Bellevue had one stoplight back then. The tallest building was two stories. My, how Bellevue has grown in the last 55 years.
During our stroll, Meadow and I found a wee bear resting against a rock.
Thinking it looked a little familiar, Meadow moved in for an introductory sniff.
The bear looks lonely, maybe even hopful Meadow will pick him up and take him with her. But no, Meadow feels it's best he stay there in case his true friend returns, looking for him. Lots of small kids in strollers go by this spot. I'm sure someone is missing him and will come looking.
The lost bear reminded me of this photo of Meadow and her own wee bear:
Meadow has always had a stuffed toy that she keeps with her, nearby, in sight. The other dogs know that it belongs to her. The bear now sits atop the piano because sometimes Meadow plays a little rough with him (especially when teasing Finn) and his stuffing is coming out. He's already been through one corrective surgery; I'm worried how many he can tolerate. Meadow now has a purple bunny as replacement. The bear has a special back story; I want to make sure he survives.