Yesterday morning as I stood in the master bathroom getting ready to go out running, I looked through the bedroom and out the windows above the bed, and noticed for the first time how vibrant the fall colors have become already.
Already fall? Impossible! Yet, it’s October now, and we’ve spent just a week over a year in this house. It’s been a good year, and we’ve enjoyed the house. The future is a bit uncertain at this point, but we will move out in about 3 weeks, and do some traveling, and then? A new job for me, probably.
I always look forward to the future and whatever comes next, but I sometimes stop and experience a period of sadness about leaving a place. That’s where I am now– thinking “this may be the last time I walk this trail,” “this may be the last time I eat at this restaurant,” or “this may be the last time I see this acquaintance.”
There’s a school of Dutch painting that involves landscapes as seen through a window of some interior space, and I was thinking about that as I took this photo. I certainly don’t know much about the theory behind this style of painting and I wasn’t under the illusion of taking an “artsy” photo, but now that I download the picture and get a better look at it, I really have to laugh at myself. The blue electrical tape around the window sills glare out of the picture, defying any idea at all of artistic composition. The tape was a quick solution to the problem of ill-fitting window screens, which were failing to prevent the plentiful midges from getting in at night, and everywhere in this oh-so-white house, the blue stands out starkly around the window sills.
So, I’ll take that as a metaphor– a cautionary note against too much nostalgia for a time or a place– and someday years from now, I’ll probably find this picture and remember the good year in this lovely view house, and laugh about the tape and the hordes of midges that occasioned its use.