Wednesday, November 23, 2011

A room with a view

Before, the early mornings I'd get up and catch the sunrises. On Fridays, they were a colorful perk of a quiet start.

The woman who moved into that house saw them too. Me, here, in the after, acutely aware that I had no sunrise view. Her, there, telling me how beautiful the morning starts are.

I loved the sunrises too, I told her.

Me, here, getting used to where I put things, which light switches control which lights, season giving way to season. I soaked in fall's color palette. Luxuriated in the senses. Captivated by leaves falling, falling, falling ... their silent drift like snow, slow motion.

One evening, I sat in the dining room. Summer's lush and weeks of rain had hidden the view, now revealed. I looked out into the garden and the woods, tree silhouettes, all bare. I caught my breath. A frame of bay window aflame in spectacular--a sunset view that made me gasp and marvel, a cry of gratitude for beauty.

A room, with a view.

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