new views.

i am always drawn to look out of windows.

as soon as i wake up i peek out through the blinds to see what is happening outside as the sun blooms over buildings old and new; casting a glow over the people below, getting in and out of cars, or dashing for the jolting, snuffling city bus.

from the window of my new place, there is so much to look at, so much bluster and movement all the time. hillsboro village is a community that is alive and breathing and moving, night and day. people are always coming and going, walking their dogs, riding bicycles, hurrying off to somewhere—to the office or to get kids to school, or to a lab in the deep recesses of the medical center.

there are tourists in cowboy boots with shopping bags meandering the boutiques, and orderlies in scrubs with name badges shuffling home in the wee hours. there are sports fans cheering from the open-air restaurants along 21st, there are delivery men and pretty college students and long-bearded, tattooed baristas.

i am here, like a bird on a wire, watching the bustle from my perch, taking it all in. and when i descend into it, i become part of it, my noise and activity and presence adding to the cacophony that is community.

some people are drawn to solitude, to isolated places, to mountaintops or lakes, but i'm drawn to the busy-ness and bustle of a city, or in this case, a village. it's where i feel most at home. it's where i feel anything is possible.