I find it strange, but it's true. Yesterday I went on a YSA ward camp out to a member's property back in the mountains by Boulder. I drove past trees, mountain sides, and more trees. To me, it was "Eh, it's nature." When I got up there, one of the girls said "I was distracted while driving because I wanted to keep slowing down and look at the wonderful scenery." I, however, had no trouble keeping my eyes on the road.
I didn't plan on staying the night, and after finding out that trying to sleep in a car with seats shorter than the length of your body isn't comfortable, I drove home around 1 AM. As I made my way down the mountain, I would occasionally catch glimpses of the city below, and that's when I slowed down to look at the scenery. Seeing the thousands of speckled, twinkling lights down there was wonderful, as well as calming and peaceful. Even after I got off the mountain and into the city itself, I was still awe-struck and felt incredibly relaxed. No one was around, and there were rarely any other cars to worry about. No one was around, but all the buildings were lit amongst the cloud of darkness.
I find it strange how most people (Especially my dad) find scenes of unaltered nature to be wonderful. My dad's dream home is to live in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. I, on the other hand, love to be in the heart of the city.
I have in my mind an image of great, peaceful scenery. Sitting in a large window sill, looking out a large, clear window and beholding the sparkling city at night, while possibly listening to Jazz. Perhaps part of it stems from Microsoft Bob, where I could make rooms like the one below.
Or perhaps faint memories of, when a young kid, sitting in the car and looking out at the stars and city going by.
I dunno, it seems strange. All I know is that I haven't been more relaxed in a long time than when I drove home last night around 2 AM.