Windows

   Windows? No, not the brand-name computer Operating System, I mean, the clear part of your wall. Really, Matt, you're going to celebrate something so mundane as the window? This here's the thing: life is beautiful, and some of the most beautiful things about life are the ones we often overlook, the ones staring us right in the face. And the cliche' is true that says you gotta stop and smell the roses or you'll go postal.  We'll talk roses another day; right now if you'll give me three minutes of your time, I'd like to contemplate tempered plate glass!
   What prompted me to pen this message is a reno going on at the house down the street. The original architecture featured a big picture window in the Living Room, which the contractor inceremoniously tore out, and replaced with a standard off-the-shelf double-hung version. Several other windows were removed and their spaces boarded up. Maybe to make room for a giant flat-screen TV; to replace an actual window with a virtual one?
   I'm a light guy: I love sunlight, and I love daylight. As I type this, I luxuriate in the sunny splendor of our living room's bay windows, a happy home for Wendy's houseplants. To me, the more windows the better! Sure, I get that curtains and rods and stuff can be expensive, and energy efficiency may be reduced, blah,blah,blah, I don't care! I like windows, especially those of unique styles and shapes.

Our South-facing bays

   One of my cherished childhood memories is of a stained-glass window that lit our second floor stairwell. The warm sun shining through its colored panels shone red, blue, and yellow on my little hands and arms. If I ever build me a house, you'd better believe it's going to have a stained-glass window illuminating the hallway!
   I'm so happy the apartment we now dwell in has a little window over the kitchen sink. Yes, we still wash dishes by hand, and ya gotta love the view! At times I've lived in a home without a sink window, and I tried to fake it by hanging a mirror there instead. It doesn't work!
   Years ago I worked in a greenhouse---which is of course all window. Then 20 years back I started working in a cleanroom which of course has no windows! How did I survive but by heading outside on my breaks to see the sky and the trees and the grass! Some of the oils I work with are sensitive to flourescent light, so the company covered the bulbs with an orange film.  So that one little corner of my workplace always looked like sunset! It helped alleviate my windowlessness.

Caribbean style at Mama's house

   You all know I love to travel: and when I fly, give me the window seat every time! Have you ever seen a thunderstorm from above the clouds?  And I love to watch the coastline give way to the ocean, then again to see the city lights as we near our destination.
   Let me say here that a window is not merely a physical portal between interior and exterior, but can be a mental passway as well. For who hasn't sat by their window on a rainy day, watching the storm shower the streets, and drifted off to daydreaming? Who hasn't lain in bed on a day off, listening to the birds chirping "every little thing is going to be all right!" ? Or who hasn't watched the snow falling by moonlight and hoped there'd be no school the next day? Who hasn't drawn tiny icons with their fingers on the foggy schoolbus window?
   I remember as a child sitting at the breakfast table with my Mom, staring out the kitchen window at the tired old apple tree, while the grackels hopped about, looking as creepy as Poe's raven. She would say grace with this little prayer: Thank You for the food we eat, thank You for the world so sweet. Thank You for the birds that sing, thank You, Lord, for everything.

   Maybe that simple, childish prayer is the reason I appreciate simple, mundane things like windows.