“And one day, in response to my love, she blew me a kiss.”
“Learn to love the sunrise and sunset, the beating of rain on the roof and windows, and the gentle fall of snow on a winter day.” Lowell L. Bennion
Yes, as the quote says, it’s about, “learning to love” nature, our surroundings…life. I love Mother Nature. And one day, in response to my love, she blew me a kiss:
Our TV is a window to the world for sure. But overwhelmingly, this window brings sights of sadness…wave after wave of misery. Usually, before bed, we look at benign blather of old sitcoms, like, King of Queens or Raymond or The Office.
But sometimes a tsunami of politics, crime, and war causes me to slam the TV window shut. Some of you do too, I’m sure.
But many of us just move on to other windows, like this laptop, or iPad or smartphone you’re viewing this on. And here I am, right on the other side.
I find the greatest relief from TV is through the mindful use of my personal windows, the windows I have most control over…my eyes.
So, I’m out the door with my personal windows for solace at the sea.
I’ve written much and showed many photos of seascapes: the sunset surf,
the newborn chicks.
But it’s not only the sea that I see.
There is more balm for the eyes in Long Beach and in most of our environments that are not by the shore. They come in precious moments of mindfulness if one just hits the pause button. Just look outside your window:
Sometimes there’s a lot to love right in our own backyards. Like these President Street sights:
Our sixth floor, home faces north, leeward, away from this incredible vista of sea and sand. I have to go all the way downstairs for that.
Sometimes a little imagination adds to the view. When I look out our windows I see gentle waves of rooftops. I see smokestacks of old steamers chugging through the morning mist.
Each season brings new delight:
It’s not only the sights that move me, it’s also the sounds. Evolution gave us lids to close our eyes, but nothing to close our ears, hence their importance in engaging nature: The crack of lightning bolting from the sky…
…the percussion of plunks and patters upon our terrace.
An archer’s bow, aiming for the heavens.
Sometimes it rains rainbows.
Feathered friends who didn’t get the memo that birds fly “somewhere over the rainbow.”
Chimnies surf the whitecaps…
…and a hibernating barbecue awaits spring.
Soft lights, a whisper in the silent white night…
…while across the way, a tiny house welcomes Christmas visitors.
Our view is blessed with a sunrise that bounces gold off majestic Manhattan.
Followed by audacious sunsets:
Finally, a reminder of where I am and what I’m most grateful for:
New York City dressed in red, white and blue for the 4th of July.
I’m in America, an idea for which so many have died so that we may live behind peaceful windows.
And I see Macy’s blasts explode over the East River in a salute to America.
America, where hope and ideas can burst forth in endless possibilities.
America, where democracy’s damnedest logjams can be blown apart.
I see life unfold through my personal windows.
I see the sea,
I see the seasons,
I see people living free.
And I am grateful, so very grateful,
for so much to see…beyond TV.