To See My Way Clear

Out of necessity, I recently rearranged my computers so that both are on one side of the table and array of desks that comprise my little home office. What happened is that the keyboard tray of the older desk collapsed entirely, and I resolved to convert it into more of a straight desk for handwriting and other purposes requiring a clear, flat surface. It seems to serve adequately in that capacity, although I would very much like a proper desk.

A consequence of moving the big desktop computer is that the major obstruction of my view out the window is gone. It had been there almost since I moved it, I think, although it was in a different place initially. This turn of events had me contemplating my view out the window afresh. There is not so very much to see, but it's not so bad, really. Too seldom do I even draw open the blinds. I tend to shun the sunlight, not on my own account but that of my numerous electronic screens.

Adjacent buildings block some of what would otherwise be seen. There are other apartment buildings about as tall, and a church right behind us that is shorter but nonetheless in the way. There was some construction in side which was interesting enough for a bit, but it is finished now. If I strain, I can make out mountains, but it is hardly worth it to do so. There's a billboard I can make out, but it doesn't face me directly, and so it does not afford much interest.

I always love people watching, but there are few if any on display from the window. I can see traffic far in the distance, for what that's worth. I suppose that this second look has not revealed any really compelling reasons to open my blinds more frequently, but at the very least I could probably benefit from a little bit more natural sunlight while indoors. I shall try to avail myself of it, and to see more clearly the beauty that is there in front of me.