The window in my bedroom of my childhood home looked out onto a pond where geese and ducks liked to congregate. It was a man-made, water retention pond, but I’ve always thought it made for a great view. I had my small, twin bed pushed up against the window, so I could look outside when I was getting ready for bed, or just resting.
There was a mirror that faced the window in my bedroom and when my blinds were fully raised, it reflected an image of the sky. On the days when the sky was bright blue and the clouds were big fluffy puffs, I noticed the reflection the most. In those moments that I caught the beautiful sight of the sky, I thought about how lucky I was to have a window that looked out onto such a sight and a mirror that reflected that sight for two times the splendor.
In the summer, when it got really hot, I raised my window as high as it would go. We never had air conditioning in my house, not even in the hottest of summers. The humid air would fill my room and I’d sneeze because I have pretty bad seasonal allergies. Accompanied by those allergens would be the humming of lawnmowers, the splashing sound of children cannonballing into their above ground pools, and the honking of those geese. My ceiling fan would spin at a pace that was never fast enough and swirl the goodness of summer around my room into a vortex.
In the wintertime, when I would try to fall asleep, my feet would always be too hot, so I’d put them on the glass window to cool them off. Condensation would form around my hot feet, then I’d pull them off and see a footprint against the cloudy, night sky.
The window in my bedroom of my childhood home was a picture frame casing an ever-changing image of my childhood.