As a teen I use to sit and look out
my window. On a summer night,
it was nice to have the breeze.
Most of the times with my hands
on each other and my elbows out
like wings... and my chin on the
back of my hands...
In the early years, I would look
out and see the woods with a fence
around it. A wooden fence. That we
kids would loosen the bottom of two
and slide them across to the side.
Then we would crawl thru. Putting
them back. We use to play like
Indians, in our imagination of how things
were 200 years before. There was a
caretaker who would chase us. Us
trying to find our secret spot, and
get out before he would see which
one it was. The property belonged
to two single sisters.
Later in life, the property was sold.
I guess the sisters passed away,
or were in nursing homes. And
as they tore down the house, the
very old house..... I could see from
my view on life, that it was a glorious
old house. A fireplace in each bedroom.
And a very large room, a ballroom like
And my imagination would swirl with how
life must have been when the sisters were
It was sad to see all the old trees come down
one by one.. Some small, and some very tall.
Then came the grocery store. And the huge
parking lot. My view was of the back of the store.
So I saw large trucks and semi's deliver products
and produce to the store in the early mornings.
And some times in the summer.. you would
see lovers in their car, over in the corner where
no one could see them in the shadow of the
few trees they had left behind.
Around midnight the show would start, in the
winter... with ice and snow on the parking lot,
I would witness the cars doing donuts, slides,
on the large parking lot. Older boys (to me at
that time) would try to outdo each other. And
one time, two of them were coming from a
different directions around the store... to just
miss each other as they slide sideways..
Ah, yes, the view of life from the window of
53 Beacon Street....
Every child should have a second story house
window to view life.
The Arrogance of the Networks
10 hours ago