I was absolutely riveted by a piece in last week's New York Times about just that. They asked seventeen New York artists to capture the view from their windows, and I've gone back and looked at these depictions over and over.
Of course we've also been having a fun bit of voyeurism, seeing into people's homes on Instagram and Facebook videos (my favorite is writer and cookbook author David Leibovitz's daily cocktail hour from his apartment in Paris) but I also found it fascinating to see what people are seeing when they look out. So I thought it would be fun if we shared our views with you, and then perhaps you could describe in the blog comments what you see when you look out your window!
Here's my view from my living room window. This is what I see when I sit to chat on the phone, or to read. We live on a very busy corner so there are always people driving by, even in the lock-down, but now we are also seeing lots of people walking their dogs. And of course our dogs have to bark like mad at every single one.
And this is my view from my kitchen window, across the deck. Beyond the fence there is always traffic, but in a few weeks (assuming I can figure out how to get some flowers) it will be a little oasis outside our back door.
LUCY BURDETTE: Debs, there is a new group on Facebook too called “the view from our window.” People from all over the world posting--it’s amazing and somehow reassuring. It’s so quiet here in Key West--none of the hustle bustle we’re used to. I think we are all feeling like T-bone in this view out our side deck--something very important and thrilling is out of reach!
I watched David Lebovitz this week--lots of fun! And I have to say that John and I have a running commentary on the state of reporters’ offices on the PBS Newshour. We’re pretty sure one guy must have gotten scolded by his wife and moved the camera to a vantage point that was less messy LOL!
HALLIE EPHRON: When I rolled up the shade in my office this morning, here’s what I saw.
Seriously? We’ve had no snow all winter and now it decides to frost the forsythia and Japanese quince. You can see my office view is truncated - a fence between our property and our neighbor’s driveway. They’re great neighbors, with a baby and a toddler, swing set in the backyard. We’re surrounded by young families - we had a one-year-old when we bought our house from a woman who was in her 80s and had been here for 60 years.
RHYS BOWEN: I’m lucky in that I’m stuck at our winter home in Arizona where I live in a lovely little private community surrounded by mountains. So the view from my office window brings me delight as I work. I had to do a virtual tour for Goodreads this week so here’s the link for you to take a tour of my office and see my view
The one thing I don’t see is people or life going on. In fact the other day I was looking out and felt like the Lady of Shalott!
DEBS: Rhys, see the orange rose in my little bouquet, front and center?
That's David Austin's Lady of Shallott and it is gorgeous! Now I'll think of you when I see it! And I'll happily share some of my traffic with you!
JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I also had a snowy view this morning - New England has decided to remind us we can never count on it being spring until it’s practically over.
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| The view Sunday morning - no snow! |
It’s funny you bring this subject up, Debs, because I was talking (from ten feet away) with a neighbor a few days ago, when I was out walking the dog. We’ve both lived in our tiny neighborhood on either side of a county highway for over thirty years, and in that time, we’ve seen traffic change from almost non-existent to a vehicle every 30-40 seconds. Exploding housing prices in Portland have been driving people out to more distant communities, with a commensurate rise in commuter traffic.
That’s changed. Now, when I sit at my desk facing the road, I look up when I hear a car drive past, because they’ve become increasingly rare. It’s both eerie, and pleasant. Do the Germans have a name for that sensation?
JENN McKINLAY: I’m quite certain the Germans have a word for it, Julia! Since I live in a frat house, my view is one of chaos and mayhem. We don’t have red hair and there are only four of us, but we could easily be Weasleys. My desk looks out into the backyard, so the view from my window is a pingpong table, a punching bag in the shape of a dude (we call him Dickie, no idea why), the firepit, my ridiculous amount of potted plants in various stages of health, and the swimming pool. Last year, I gave Hooligan 1 a blow up Narwhal for his high school graduation. Of course, H1 blew him up for a pool party and he has floated in our pool ever since, so I frequently look up from my desk, and see “Wally” floating by. It’s ridiculous but he always makes me smile.
I live on a street that has a K-8 school at the end of it. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss seeing all the kids walking to and from school. It used to be they were loud and annoying and made the dogs bark, but now I miss the sounds of the laughter and the good natured yelling at each other as they all walked home. I think the dogs miss them, too.
HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Aw, Jenn. Yeah, I heard an airplane fly over yesterday--so eerie. The German word could be: ruhiggefahlzeitgeistgenugkeit. Quiet-danger-worldview-enough-ness. Does that work?
The view out our back door always makes us laugh--which feels so bizarre these days. The ducks have taken on new and hilarious behaviors, and Jonathan says it’s their way of attempting to train us. These two guys are new-this-year-arrivals, Banded Duck and Wobbly (we think he has a hurt foot). They come right up to the back door and quack-quack-quack to be fed.
And a female, Eddy, flies, yes FLIES, to the back door when she sees me, and quacks like mad until I bring duck food. I open the door and come out, and she waddles at my side, following me to the place by the pool where they eat. It is truly out of Hans Christian Anderson--it’s there the little goose girl or something?
And yes, that’s SNOW on the white tulips. INSANE. I fretted all last night about whether I should cut them all and bring them in, which would be so sad. In true Hank fashion, I cut SOME of them. Easier to worry about the tulips than everything else.
DEBS: Hank, you are brilliant! Our new word-coiner!
But now it's your turn, dear readers. Describe for us what you see when you look out YOUR window.
