February 10, 1999

The View out my Window

Whenever I cannot think of what to write, I stare out at the night through my window. The view at this time of year is rather vivid. Two trees would normally obscure my view, but with winter being here, the leaves are gone leaving a few thin branches to slightly illuminated in a dim grey light. Behind it all is another dorm across the street. Though I lack x-ray vision, I know that further along that direction is a library and more of campus.

I don't look much farther than just across the street. A few windows are always lit, which is a reassurance that I'm not alone in this world though. Sometimes I see shadow in these rooms, but usually not. I have never seen a light turn off though. I wonder if they stay on all night. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night and can't fall back asleep because I'm trying to figure out the past few days, but I never bother to check the lights. That's perhaps the only mystery I never want to solve.

Every now and then, a fire engine will race by below with full lights flashing and loud siren squealing. You know they're heading off somewhere to a place where people are most likely hurting.

I think of people I know. Some live in the direction of my view, but their windows are not in my direct view. Within each person is a story. Some are solo acts, and others have epic casts. More often than not, two tales will attempt to intertwine and the casts will change. I wonder if any of the dramas taking place across the street will involve me. I could use a change of setting.

So is there a symbolic reference for my window view? It is my loneliness or yearning? Does it ever give me ideas. I don't care if there is an answer. I just know that it makes me think. . . not only about where I am, but where other people are. Some more than others. I've looked out the window long enough tonight.