Rush hour

South Anchorage, 5 p.m. Friday

A few times each year, I find myself looking
out my office window on a beautiful afternoon
and wondering why I'm sitting at a desk when
I'm caught up on my work
and the sun is calling.

On those days, I try to slip away a bit early
to enjoy a little extra time riding home.
I like to stop at this scenic spot, which is only
300 yards out of my way and a couple
of miles from my house.

I like to stand here looking at the mountains
and listening to the breeze, and feel good
about living a place where I can enjoy
this kind of scenery on a regular basis,
even while commuting home from an office.

Occasionally, I hear someone call
this city "Los Anchorage," because that's their
way of equating it to major urban centers
in the Lower 48, which is absurd.

I think such people
need to get a grip.