Perspective can make the same window have a different view.
— Gervanna “GRAVITY” Stephens
Amazing right? I think so.
From I was growing up till I was in the 10th grade we lived in the same house. It was blue inside and white outside. On one side there was a house and on the other an empty lot. To the back there were trees and you could see the top of other houses peaking like Toms in between. To the front was the main road and various church related buildings.
I remember on some Sundays after the washing and preparing for school that I’d sit on the wall outside and just look around me. It was a big view to me really, for I was less than five feet and a skinny little bean growing up in the world. When the sun would set and I’d have to go inside I would occasionally glance at the darkness and wonder if it felt bigger on the outdoors.
In the 10th grade we moved. This time, on one side there was a house and on the other there was a swamp (people have started building on the land recently). To the back there were trees and a house and to the front there was no longer a main road because we had to turn-off and there were about two houses and another street. I didn’t go outside much this time around. I’d sleep with my windows open and power through the night hoping no one would break in, because really I was often too lazy to close them. The darkness outside seemed smaller then, or maybe I was just bigger. Five feet and some inches now, and allowed to stay out a little later on some days.
My college window showed one view: concrete and grass. That was it. Sometimes there’d be a cow or two, but mainly grass. The darkness outside then just seemed lonely to me. Like it was a beckoning flare that I ignored because I knew with every sunset it would always return.
The window that I look through now visits images of green back to me. Nature is prevalent and very much alive and kicking through the blinds. Now, I am more afraid of what the darkness will think of me and the person I have become. For this reason I close my curtains early, set the blinds in place and try to forget that my friend out the window still beckons and I still ignore and I am unsure for how much longer I can keep this up.
Eight down, forty-four to go…