Funny what thoughts go through one's mind during a casual glance out of the window, isn't it? When I first moved into these vaulted halls many years ago, I had a panoramic view of the far horizons from my bedroom window. Over the years, I grew to enjoy observing seemingly tiny double-decker buses, interiors lit up against the darkness of the night sky, as they traversed their routes in the distance. I'd watch, fascinated, as they suddenly entered stage left, and then parade across the bejewelled black canvas backdrop of night, before exiting, stage right, from the scene.
Sometimes, of course, they'd glide into view in reverse order to the one just described, and at other times, two buses would appear simultaneously from opposite directions and approach one another like duelling behemoths, only to pass without incident or acknowledgement in the middle. On occasions such as these I was spoilt for choice, my eyes dancing from one to the other, captivated by these glowing little boxes on wheels as they narrowed the distance between them. I can't explain it, but there's just something magical about watching lit vehicles at night from afar, especially if one is within the cozy confines of one's own hearth and home at the time.
Nowadays, I still have pretty much the same vista spread before me, but there have been encroachments. Due to building developments, part of the stretch of road along which these buses run has been blocked from my view. I'm lucky if I can spy on the sojourns of these night-time buses for half the span I enjoyed in years past, before they disappear from sight behind a new school near the road. I can't help but wonder if those narrowing horizons might mirror my life in some symbolic way.
In youth, with the future stretching seemingly endlessly before me, my life was in 'widescreen'; as the years have passed the screen has shrunk until it is now 'regular'. Imagine if, in some strange way, the remaining visibility of that stretch of road was an indication of the measure of time left to me. (And that's if I'm lucky.) Of course, I can only hope that the two aren't connected. Otherwise, if that view of the road and its procession of buses becomes completely obscured anytime soon, then I'll be deep in the soft, smelly brown stuff.
It's a sobering thought. And, being a teetotaller, I'm already as sober as I need to be.
As a kid, teenager I never really thought of the future other than what I wanted to be when I left school (a spaceman as it happens). I just enjoyed being who I was (a kid) Howevee, a few friends were fixated on their futures from about ten years old getting good grades to get into Uni etc and most of them achieved their goals ( some sadly crashed and burned even some mentally). I'm pretty much the sane now as I enter my dotage sure I have pension and work plans in hand and I know time is running out but I always think of those school friends that are now doctors or teachers so focused on what was to come and if they just missed the "now" of course at times I think did I by just focusi g primarily on the "now" who knows but mostly it's been fun and that last bus is on its way
ReplyDeleteVery interesting observations, PM. Even as a kid, I was always looking back, though not to the extent that I missed the 'now'. However, as I've aged, the 'now' tends to elude me (at least on a conscious level) and I spend even more time pining for my lost youth. I wasn't sure what I wanted to be when I grew up - involved in comics in some way - but my classmates and friends said I should go to America and become a Disney animator. Never fancied it to be honest. Having said that, I think I'm the only person I know who had a career doing what I sort of thought I'd probably be doing at some point in the future when I left school. I'm just hoping that last bus gets lost on its way to pick me up.
ReplyDeleteInteresting analogy in regard to the narrowing field of view, never thought of it like that! My wife and I walk in a local park on the weekend, time and weather permitting, and there is a section at the top of a hill where yo can see out into the distance with so much sky above you. It's both liberating and exhilarating to have such an unobstructed view of the natural world! That's a 'now' that I soak in every weekend - really recharges the mental batteries. As for the lights - I take a bus to work every day so I would be one of those people inside the box on wheels, but your comment reminded my of a family holiday taken in Queensland and the hotel that we stayed in, ten floors high or more, was opposite another where at dusk you could see all of the occupied rooms lit up, bit of a Rear Window moment, and tell how many of the TVs were tuned to the same channel by the colour of the screen. Right from school days I thought that I'd be in a job involving art and I was fortunate enough to get there, however some of my fellow artistic friends ended up in a variety of jobs not associated with art. Very well written post, as always.
ReplyDeleteThanks, PC - very interesting comment, as always. That park you describe makes me wish there was one like it in my town (and maybe there is, but not close to my neighbourhood). There's a few good ones in Glasgow, but as I'm about 8 miles outside the city, they're not much good to me. When I'm looking out of the window at the buses, I also enjoy seeing the light of the houses lit up as well. It all adds to the 'atmosphere'.
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