Looking through the window, I learn about birds, goannas, possums, I learn about clouds and stars, I learn about the cycle of the moon and the sun, I watch the dance of leaves in the wind and study the light reflecting through raindrops... together they sparkle like gems.
I think about the people who long ago cut the wood for the window frames, and those who poured the glass, and the ones who shaped the old brass handles.
I remember the days before there was a window here, before there was a wall. I remember the sanding and the planning, I remember the dreaming and the creation.