Look Out The Window

I watch my kids. A lot. More than I watch the average person. I have to be able to read them. To protect them. To know when they’ve had enough. But I love watching them discover new things.

I took the twins with me to visit Coffee Guy once. As usual, they were all curiosity. Joy at a new place to discover.

They never really check out the people, but give them a big window, or even better, row of windows, and they are glued. I have to remind them not to leave smudges. Smudges block the view.

The innocence and wonder. Their faces pressed flat, trying to take it all in. Windows are never big enough. Those particular windows looked out at a good panorama of the area- all the way to the mountains. They could see the birds and the fountain. CG told them that there were fish in the pond, and even a turtle.

He’s not a kid person, so that little input, to the rascals taking over his space, was pretty generous. But I have seen them, too.

Back to windows. I like windows too. As an adult, I know I’m supposed to keep a polite distance. In all my visits, I only got close enough twice. I may not have the innocence of my children, but I share their curiosity. More so, I enjoy the energy and beauty of bringing the outside in.

I’ve watched the same building from my bench, outside, beyond the pond. It’s rare to see adults stand at windows, looking out. They keep their distance, if they look out at all. They neglect to get the whole view. They only look at part of the painting. Where is their wonder? Where did the curiosity go? They sit back, as if the enormity of the thing, is too big. Or maybe that small slice is enough for them. It’s only when they are sight seers, visitors or waiting, that they really look, and then, only for a short time. Those that work there, I’ve never seen them look out. Heads down, backs turned, ignoring it all, without a glance.

I love driving I-80 get to my bench. West or East. You have fields and mountains. The colors changing everyday. I keep my eyes on the traffic, but when I can, I look and marvel at some of the vast beauty around it. Do the people in the cars around me see it? Or are they so used to the commute, that it no longer impresses them? They drive with their windows up, music on, and simply try to get to where they are going. It’s their life, in the fast lane.

Roll down your windows or step up to the view. Smell the tangy manure, the long grasses, the woodsmoke of the last springtime fires. Watch the birds of prey fly, hovering, as the wind holds them in place. Count the calves that spring has brought, nursing or galloping in the pastures. See the clouds purple and glowing with the sunset. Or the blue, tinged with exhaust. Be mesmerized by the fountain, dancing and tossing silver coins into the water. Laugh at the fish, jumping up to catch dinner. Wave to the turtle, when he comes up for air, catch his smile. Smell the water as it hits your face, leaving it crusty and wet.

Look out there! Look beyond the small space that you inhabit. Regain your wonder and curiosity. Feel the breeze. Let your hair fly, whipping back and forth. Feel the heat that bakes everything. There is so much more than just working or driving. You don’t have to be afraid of just being. Look out the damn window!

Life is out there, not in here.


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