Out the east windows of my office, I’m looking directly at the Chugach Mountain Range, well-covered with snow at this point. The sun has finally cleared the peaks. Across the street is a dentist’s office and some housing. In front of the building are some very nice spruce trees, interspersed with birch.
Out the south windows is the parking lot, more trees, and in the distance some jets doing touch and go at the AFB.
On both sides are the usual ravens and magpies that one sees in the winter here. It’s about 5 below zero at the moment.
From my computer at home, I look out on birch and spruce trees, chickadees visiting the feeder, and the occasional squirrel making a raid on the bird seed.
Looking to my right, I see the small side street I’m living on. It’s wide, most of its breadth occupied with grass and trees and sidewalks lining each side. There are a couple of cars parked on my side of the street, and every now and then another drives by. I can see other houses, apartment buildings, and, off the the right, an old stone church and National Defence Headquarters. The roof over the front porch is right outside my window. The squirrel that spends a lot of time on it is nibbling on some fallen maple seeds. The raccoons that knock on my window every now and then aren’t around. A man is strolling down the street, eating an apple, gazing at the stone houses and the crows that are passing overhead. A girl is walking her dog, and the bushes in the front yard are full of sparrows.
The window in the hallway affords me a view similar to Bookkeeper’s. The flag flaps lazily atop the Peace Tower, and the Library of Parliament is hidden in the scaffolding. Its iron cap-piece, normally visible, was taken down for restoration. I can see a crane being used on a construction site downtown, and the brand new copper roof on Château Laurier. The finance building is visible, as well as the Ottawa Little Theatre, people and automobiles.
A layer of broken altostratus hangs, drifting imperceptibly with the upper winds, and through the breaks are visible the pastel blues and pinks and yellows of a late afternoon sky.
I have a very pretty view of most of downtown Cincinnati, and, if I go out on the balcony, one bend of the Ohio River. It’s dusk, so the skyscrapers are starting to turn their lights on, but several of them are still dark. In the foreground, the very spiffy shape of the art deco Union Terminal train station. In front of that, alas, the trainyards, and right below me, again alas, the sewage treatment plant, where a lovely flame burns heavens-know-what all the time.
My 'puter is in the basement, but we made an ugly old window well into a lovely garden window & I’m enjoying it right now. I look up to the neighbor’s house and our yard. The bamboo I planted to screen us from the neighbor’s kitchen window is thriving. It’s bright green and dancing at the moment the rain and wind are relentless, but I’m warm & the drops falling from the roof look like precious gems.
From my office window, I can see the local airport at Albrook, which used to be a U.S. air base. On the hills beyond is tropical forest in Camino Las Cruces National Park, which used to be part of the Canal Zone. Off to the right I can see downtown Panama City.
If I look out the window on the other side of my floor, I see Panama’s Legislative Assembly building and beyond that the Pacific, where ships are waiting to enter the Panama Canal.
A cop car. Oh, look, and another one. And another. And a policeman with a long, rifle-type thing in his hands lying down on the roof of the building oppos…
It’s getting dark now, but to my left I can still see the outline of a big tree that still has most of its leaves. If I get up and go to the window I can see the lights on the buildings downtown through the mist, and if it was daylight and not raining I’d be able to see the North Shore mountains. Oh, and a somewhat miserable-looking cyclist went past just as I looked out the window.
Behind me, there’s a bunch of trees and bushes, plus the stained-glass windows of the church across the street are lit up very prettily, though the trees and bushes block most of my view of that.
Now: blackness, and lights far away because it’s night. During the day, there would be a flag and a sycamore tree, and the shore and the other side of Cayuga Lake a little further away. I will never be able to afford this sort of a view again!
If it was light out, I would see the ruins of an 1800’s military fort were some famous general lived when his father was stationed there. Its kind of a neat place to live, oh yeah, and a really big mountain.
There’s a city cherry picker and crew attempting to replace a burned out streetlight. About 20 cars are now stuck, waiting for the truck to move. The lead guy has his radio turned up so loud, the windows are vibrating. Colorful language about to ensue, bet on it. Ah, the joys of city living.
