Forced perspective

There was an ambulance and a fire truck in front of our neighbors’ house tonight for a long time.

It’s the woman I used to take riding lessons from and her family who live there. They have two sons and two daughters, all of whom are around my age or a few years older, and her husband was an Air Force pilot.

We got a call from a mutual friend who told us that the husband had collapsed, wasn’t breathing, and had no heartbeat.

Our property is adjacent to theirs, so that looking out the windows at the back of our house, we can see right down the hill to their barn and the back of the house.

The flashing lights from the two emergency vehicles illuminated the side of their house, and I could see people hurrying back and forth in front of the large window on the bottom floor.

In the backdrop of this scene, all the city lights of Colorado Springs glimmered peacefully.

I found the contrast almost sickening.

The ambulance left eventually. My mom said it wasn’t driving very fast.

When I wrote about why I love flying only a few days ago, I marveled at the passing of life at a distance.

Tonight, I may have watched a life being lost just beyond my back window.

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Forced perspective

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