Sunday, 21 June 2015
THE VIEW THROUGH THE WINDOW...
How many houses have you lived in over the course of your life? Do you ever think back to any of the views that once met your gaze when you looked out of the window? I'm trying to recall when the 'view from the window' began to mean something to me, and I think it was when we moved from my present abode, before returning just over four years later.
At one time, the view beyond the window never held any particular significance to me, 'til one evening in May of 1983, when I sat and watched the rays of the sun fade over the horizon from my bedroom, and I realized that I would soon never be able to enjoy that scene again. Sure, I'd be bound to see the sunlight fade if I wanted, but it would never be from that window or of that specific scene. As it had been my view for 11 of my 24 years, it somehow made me feel somewhat melancholy.
When we returned to the house, I was glad to resume my acquaintanceship with the view, which was unchanged (though that wasn't to last) and everything seemed right with the world once more. In our new house, I'd almost resented the new view, merely for not being the old one - even though that had never meant anything to me until I realized I was about to lose it.
I think, when we're young, the view from the window has no special significance to us; we look out of our windows to see what's happening (who's out there, is it raining, is it snowing), but we pay no particular attention to what the scene is comprised of - the details, in effect. Over time however, without us realizing it, the view comes to represent a period in our lives of which we're later reluctant to let go - to abandon to oblivion.
Today, I now even find myself missing the view I once resented, and pining for the time in my life which it conjures up in my mind. Strange or what? In fact, I find myself missing every view that I remember (which is all of them) and I wonder how I'd cope if I were to suddenly find myself in the unwanted position of having to relocate yet again. At my age, I don't think I'd be able to adapt to new surroundings.
I've previously related on this blog how, when I learned that the field across the road from one of my old houses was about to be built on, I arranged with the tenant to photograph the scene for posterity. I now have a record of the view outside every house I've ever lived in, either taken from the window inside, or the step or path just outside the front door.
It may seem strange to you, but I find it comforting to be able to revisit my past in this way, and immerse myself in the familiar surroundings of my earlier years. How about the rest of you? Do you ever think back to the environs beyond your windows that you once knew, or are you too busy living in the here and now to ever think about how things used to be?
If you have any particular reminiscences of the places of your youth, and any you miss in particular, feel free to relate precisely what they mean (or once meant) to you. Does your memory, unbidden, ever return to the scenes of earlier abodes,and do shades of yesteryear haunt your dreams with images of happier times, taunting you with what used to be, but can never be again - except in memory? Do tell.
Posted by Kid at Sunday, June 21, 2015