7:30 BELLS: What I Never Dreamed I Could See From My Window
This week the 1910 house where I have lived for twenty-two years offered a new viewpoint on the world. In my upstairs office, a skylight sets in a slanted wall. Although the skylight is large and fills my office with light, it is too high to provide a view of anything but the sky.
Last winter, to better use space, I moved a big cabinet beneath the skylight.
Six months later, during our current Pacific Northwest heat wave, I open the skylight at sunset to let in cooling breezes. One evening, I suddenly realized I could sit on top of the cabinet, lean against the bit of wall the skylight is set into, and have an instant window seat view of the world. With one arm propped on the sill, I look out and out.
And what a splendid vista! Above the ugly power lines crisscrossing every side of our house, I look out on tree tops near and far, out at an open view of the northwest sky. (The photo above shows only half the view.) How the bells rang at this new way to see my world. And no remodeling required.
How little it sometimes takes to change everything. Now this is my evening perch, where I read, write, and reflect during my personal summer sabbatical.
Last night I watched a thunderstorm. When the rain began, I didn’t need to close the skylight. The long sweep of glass over my head sheltered me. And I had this thought. The glass above me allowed me to see rushing the black clouds, the lightning nets. And yet, that same glass sheltered me from what I saw.
This is often true of our lives, I think. Seeing clearly may show something hard, something we would rather not see. But the very act of seeing clearly, also shelters us from the storm.
So always look. And don't forget to rearrange the furniture.
7:30 BELLS Posts run every Tuesday.
Last winter, to better use space, I moved a big cabinet beneath the skylight.
Six months later, during our current Pacific Northwest heat wave, I open the skylight at sunset to let in cooling breezes. One evening, I suddenly realized I could sit on top of the cabinet, lean against the bit of wall the skylight is set into, and have an instant window seat view of the world. With one arm propped on the sill, I look out and out.
And what a splendid vista! Above the ugly power lines crisscrossing every side of our house, I look out on tree tops near and far, out at an open view of the northwest sky. (The photo above shows only half the view.) How the bells rang at this new way to see my world. And no remodeling required.
How little it sometimes takes to change everything. Now this is my evening perch, where I read, write, and reflect during my personal summer sabbatical.
Last night I watched a thunderstorm. When the rain began, I didn’t need to close the skylight. The long sweep of glass over my head sheltered me. And I had this thought. The glass above me allowed me to see rushing the black clouds, the lightning nets. And yet, that same glass sheltered me from what I saw.
This is often true of our lives, I think. Seeing clearly may show something hard, something we would rather not see. But the very act of seeing clearly, also shelters us from the storm.
So always look. And don't forget to rearrange the furniture.
LORE OF THE BELL
Look out your window in a new way
and the bells will ring.
7:30 BELLS Posts run every Tuesday.
7:30 BELLS Guest Posts run on the second Tuesday
of every month. Join me on August 12 for a guest post with
Crystal Kite winning author Kim Baker