Out the Window

Is there a window around? If so, what do you see outside? Windows are very telling of the places we are. Their views remind us of the reality surrounding us. I once stared out the window of the art gallery I was working at, on a very polished street, full of quaint shops and cafes with snow falling so persistently, I actually felt like a figurine inside of a picture perfect snow globe. Windows, in their style and adornments represent our worlds.




In Costa Rica, most of the windows are fairly unassuming, in line with the typical budget for such commodities. Most are hosts for iron bars, and louvered glass panes. Around where we live, they frame the endless amounts of green found in the trees, shrubbery and hillsides of the rural countryside. But, in town, the view out the window is much more descriptive of its location. Through this window, one can see an ageing tin roof atop a seemingly abandoned structure, painted Spanish words beckoning customers to indulge in some sweet local decadence, and taxi upon taxi carting people and goods throughout the rugged landscape. There are old cars, I mean really old cars, with fresh paint and nauseous exhaust; new cars bought with recent land sales or outlandish credit; rental cars full of folks in search of paradise; and newer used cars with those who think they have just moved to it. The view out a window in Costa Rica is very telling, and occasionally as one gazes out at the endless stories, along comes a guy in a hat riding his horse. Windows observe it all.