From a second story window

When I sit down to write, I twist the rod to open the blinds so that I can see the world outside my second story window. And if it’s cool out, or if it’s nighttime, sometimes I open the window. I like to feel the air and hear the sounds.

Tonight, the air reminds me of a warm, ocean breeze. The warmth envelopes you, and there’s not the slightest hint of a chill. It makes me want to be there. At the edge of the Earth. Once you visit some place, once you experience something, you can always go there again in your mind. I close my eyes and remember.

I hear the steady whir of air conditioning units down below, intermittently starting and stopping. As I concentrate, I hear the almost constant sound of crickets chirping, which I hadn’t noticed until just now. And seemingly far off in the distance, I hear a bird singing. It’s such a beautiful song and part of me wants to do nothing else but go on listening to it all night. I wonder if birds sleep and if they do, why this one is awake.

I see two windows with lights on in the building directly behind and identical to mine. It’s now after midnight. There is an empty lot to the left of that building. In the day, it’s beautiful greenery. But now, it’s only blackness.

There are two large trees in the lot, at least one of which I surmise to be an oak. But all I can see of them now is the partial silhouette of one against the peachish glow of a streetlight. Sometimes I see weird “lot people” walking thru in the evenings. I’m not sure where they come from or where they’re going, and I’m a little scared.

Occasionally I see headlights and hear a car pass by on the main four-lane thru town, Highway 31, which is a couple of blocks away. It goes from Mobile to Michigan. I like to think about how far a single road can take you. And what is at the end. Yeah, the interstate is just five minutes further. But you see more on roads like this.

The road is freedom. Sometimes I want to get on it and just drive. For an hour. Or a day. Maybe find a hotel, spend the night, and drive back tomorrow. I wonder about all the places I would see. Little towns I would pass thru. Maybe I wouldn’t come back at all.

Those are some of the sights and sounds of my little corner of the world. And that’s just what I see when my eyes are open…

“By the time I make Albuquerque, she’ll be working. She’ll probably stop at lunch and give me a call. But she’ll just hear that phone keep on ringin’, off the wall…”