I Have a View/All Life is Illusion

So I’m looking out the biggish window in the front of our house, at the bushy green wall of ficus hedges we planted, and the ice blue pre-dawn sky above them.  There are a few Dr. Seuss looking trees in the distance, pom pom puffs hanging from spindley branches reaching high in the sky.  Awkward angles enjoying themselves as they are. I love those trees.  I know they are dying from the drought and time and whatever.  But they look okay today.  They look like they’re having a decent time, maybe even a good time, just being.

Soon, when the sun begins to rise and flecks of gold and orange and hopefully pink grace the sky, I know the little black birds will descend en masse, crowing and flapping and greeting the day.  The bird show.  That’s what goes down out this window, every morning, whether I’m watching it or not.  

In this town, with so many houses on big hills and small mountains that offer grand sweeping views of city and harbor and islands and ocean, I forget that I too have a view.  I can see plenty of delights, plenty of interest, from here at sea level, sitting on the still new-ish white sectional.  Ficus growing, trees stretching, birds flapping — Amazing. 

I’m gonna keep going.

Thank You.