As a kid, I loved to sit and look out my
bedroom window. It brought a sense of well-being, along with a
feeling that all was well with the world.
this unusual pastime, somewhat therapeutic in nature, began as quiet moments spent looking out the old-time dormer windows of our home on the south hill of Spokane.
I'd watch as the older boys in the neighborhood played flag football across the street. Sometimes kids from school would ride their bikes past our house. A constant flow of cars passed up and down high drive, and I was fascinated. Who were all these people, and where were they going? I never tired of this strange activity. Time passed, and I grew older.
As our new home in Deer Park was in its earliest stages, I remember asking where my room would be. I recall standing there atop the newly constructed foundation, just letting it all sink in. I felt a calming reassurance as I imagined my window. this would be the place. This is where I would come home from school each day, look out my window, and think "great thoughts". This is where I'd watch the seasons change, and daydream about all the things that teenage girls think about. Life was good.
After moving away to college, I was once again drawn to the view from my window. I became intrigued by the never-ending parade of people coming and going. Whether off to class, to and from the dining hall, or perhaps on the way to meet a special someone, each busily moving along to meet the particulars of the day. I suppose it was really nothing more than people in a hurry, but not to me. it had a flow. there was a comforting rhythm somehow. It felt intent and purposeful, and I treasured the feeling it brought, that of being a small part of something bigger.
Years pass, and a lifetime of windows have come and gone without notice. Yet on occasion, one of these personalized picture frames to the world finds its way into my life, bringing that same sense of well being, a gentle reminder that all is well with the world. Some things never change, and that brings me great comfort.
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