Tuesday, March 31, 2009
My Dreaming Window
This is my kitchen window, at the back of the house, where I do my thinking and dreaming and writing, where my eyes unfocus and my mind wanders peacefully.
Once upon a time, there was a lush growth of ivy, thirty years of ivy, cascading down the brick wall that faces us. The owner of this building decided suddenly to destroy the four stories of ivy, and with it an entire ecosystem of birds and squirrels. I to this day fail to understand his reasoning. In a city where green is a rare and precious commodity, who has the temerity to kill that green? And if ivy were really destructive, then ancient universities and libraries the world over would long ago have crumbled to bits under its weight...
But that is neither here nor there.
Because the birds have persevered, the bright finches and dove-colored doves, and they visit the suet cube I hung from our rusty, rickety, dangerous old fire escape. Their little soft birdy noises keep me company in my solitary moments at the window, without disturbing my various trains of thought.
I have learned to see not the brick wall, but the sunlight and the tree-shadows cast there.
Where is your most special place for daydreaming?