I know many before me have already noticed this, but I can’t stop myself from saying it again: the light in Walla Walla is incredible. (Especially in the summer, especially at sunset.)

And I have a confession to make. The way that crazy-beautiful light plays on those miles of subtle hills was about 50% of the reason I decided to go to school out here.

I tell people, but I don’t feel like everyone gets it: open space is amazing. I had seen oceans, but I had never seen land space on this scale until I came out west.

A few evenings ago I left the downtown area and drove aimlessly through that ocean of hills. (This is one of my favorite Walla Walla pastimes––if you can get access to a car or bike I highly recommend it! Just go anywhere. Explore.) When I’m driving in the hills I feel comfortingly small, and at the same time I feel like I’m on a power trip. Everywhere I look seems new and breathtaking. The light is modest, not striking, but somehow its overall effect is spectacular.

The hills surrounding the valley are mostly farmland. To me, they give the illusion of being untouched by man because, for the most part, they lack industrial structures. And yet these lands have been conquered and developed too, just not in a terribly obvious way.

I wonder (and guiltily worry) if I like to participate in the dream of western conquest when I drive through these hills. To be honest, I don’t really feel like I’m in farmland. When I see a group of deer cross the road ahead of me, or a raccoon bumbling on the narrow shoulder, or a hawk sitting on a telephone pole, I feel like I’m out in nature. I have to remind myself that this isn’t the “wild west.”

Aside from this touchy pre-memory of discovery that seems to come alive for me in the hills, the sheer contrast from town life provides a relieving sense of quiet.

I think some part of my soul is always going to feel elated when I’m out in the hills. There are slivers of peace there, even if they come embedded in illusion.

How do you feel?