The thing about old windows is the ever-changing view. Overlooking the city shows population growth, traffic clogs and a rise in volume with possible reflections of neon. Seeing the countryside shows the slow-motion growth of nature. Trees stretch upwards, vines hitchhike to unknown destinations, and weather patterns play with lighting and contrast.
The window frame may rot,
decay and lose its grip. The glass can collect layers of crud or even break
into shards, but the views continue. No
matter its age, it remains a window. It
is an interruption with life on both sides.
Both light and dreams pass through it.
It is a witness to time and a changer of feelings.
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