When I moved into this house many
years ago, my next-door neighbor was an elderly woman who lived alone.
She seemed pleasant enough to me
at the time. She would slowly walk into her back yard and tend her small garden
with a large straw hat and a crooked back. Now an then she would wave, but we
rarely spoke.
Now I was a good neighbor to this
established neighborhood, trimming my grass and pruning my shrubs on a regular
basis. I took out my trash and hung my laundry within the proper decorum of the
norm and though somewhat younger than my neighbors, I blended in by my
aloofness.
When the girl who would be my
future wife moved in, she complained about the old woman next door staring in
the windows.
I hadn’t noticed before, but the
woman would stand at her window on the side of the house. Perhaps she was
absorbing the sunshine or just enjoying the greenery or just staring into
space, which did not bother me, but it certainly bothered my wife.
The relationship between the two
women became increasingly uncomfortable, with the windows being covered by
curtains and then opaque glass. The privacy issue was almost humorous to me
until a fence had to be constructed hiding us from the rest of the world.
….
Today, I am that old woman.
I find myself pacing around the
small abode I call home when times are cold or rainy or no motivation can be
produced. The outlet for entertainment apart from electronic bombardment is to
look out the window.
Learning to appreciate the
ever-familiar images dancing in the wind or rain or the clouds sweeping the
surroundings in shadows, the crackle of the leaves in fall and the splash of
colors of spring orchestrated by the chatter of a constant parade of visitors
resting in the shelter and comfort of the solitude has brought me a new
understanding of what that old woman was really experiencing.
I’m aware my actions may be viewed
with curiosity, but I feel no animosity.
The same is true to analysis using
self-experienced perceptions not taking the effort to understand or appreciate,
then perhaps to relish the behaviors of someone's lifestyle.
Look through any window, what do
you see?
2 comments:
Look through any window, yeah
Any time of day
See the drivers on the roads
Button down their heavy loads
Where do they go
Moving on their way
A-driving down the highways, and the byways
Where do they go
Moving on their way
Drivers with their shy ways, and their sly ways
Stuck inside like 90% of the population lately, I've been looking out for some sunshine (forget it) or cardinals (several, and they don't lose their color like the goldfinches). What I see, however, is every window with tightly closed blinds. They don't want to look out even more than someone else looking in. There are houses behind us, whose occupants, in about fifteen years, I have never seen; if they ever leave, it's from garages. I ASSUME there are people living there, but who knows. Maybe it's because there are no fences or hardly anything growing over 18" high, but how can anyone live without natural light? Or seeing anything more alive than the TV?
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