As you have probably surmised if you have been reading this webpage, I am currently living in Georgia. I grew up in Western Oregon but spent most of my life living in Utah, interspersed with a year in New Mexico, a few years in Texas and a few years in Ohio.
I have enjoyed each community, sometimes for different reasons, but whenever we bought a house or rented one, I stood at the windows and looked out. What I can see from the windows of my house has always mattered to me. Yes, I love road trips and driving around looking at the sites, but I want to see something pretty or interesting from the windows of my home. For some reason that matters to me, and always has.
When we lived in Texas, the kitchen and dining room overlooked a pool and a pretty backyard. In Ohio we had a tree out front that towered over the whole house and provided shade in the summer. And although our hundred-year-old home was next to a road, it was below us and the traffic was slow. In Utah our home (which we still own) faces those beautiful snow capped mountains.
Although we have enjoyed each place we have called home–Georgia is, without doubt, the most beautiful place we have lived. It even surpasses the lush Willamette Valley in Oregon where I grew up. This place is just plain gorgeous in the spring with the flowering pears, dogwood, flowering cherries, wild wisteria, huge azaleas and all those other plants that flower.
However, when we moved here we rented an apartment that faced another apartment building. Yes, we could step outside and look see huge trees above the apartment buildings and near the parking lot but the view from our window wasn’t great.
My husband and I are in Georgia serving an eighteen-month-mission for our church so the view from the apartment wasn’t high on the list of priorities. It isn’t important, I reasoned. It really isn’t. And that seemed to be the case because by the time I got back to the apartment from the mission office, I was busy getting things ready for the next day.
Then a month ago we moved across the parking lot into the building we had been facing. But we moved to the back of the building on the lowest level and outside our windows are huge pine trees, tangles of unkempt bushes, rocks, dead leaves, pine cones birds, squirrels and oh, I am smiling. Maybe is shouldn’t make a difference but it does. I bought a bird feeder and I am watching the tufted titmouse, the elegant cardinal and scores of American finches in their yellow bibs eating at our bird feeder against a backdrop of lovely trees. Yes, to me, what’s outside the window matters.
I’m adding a poem to my list of poems on this site. It is about the beauties I discovered in a trip to Tennessee. Enjoy the poem and look out your window. 🙂