My View

Here's what I see as I look out the window from my chair at the dining room window. As I was walking the dogs this morning, going down the hill to toward the water, I remembered what it was like when I first moved here thirteen years ago. The thought that edged its way into my consciousness was to feel nostalgic about the time when all this was new. Every day was a delight. I basked in the idea of living by the ocean. Everything about the town fascinated me......its smallness, its quaintness (as I perceived it then), it's lack of pretension. The sight of fishing boats at the breakwater was strange and wonderful, as well as the huge tankers that dominated Water St when they docked to unload their cargo. I didn't know many people and I enjoyed my solitude. I could always feel my own edges as I wandered around the streets. There was me, and then there was "everyone else," a vague presence I had little to do with. ing is Like being a tourist in an unfamiliar place, you carry yourself and nothing else.

As I started to regret that I had lost that newness and wonder, I realized that I really have not lost it. I still look at this place as an outsider. It is probably why I have had no desire to leave. I still don't know it very well. So far I have managed to stay ignorant of anything but it's surface. I've learned nothing to contradict my solitary view, nothing to tarnish that wonderful ignorance.