I love looking at doorways, gardens and patios. I especially love walking city streets when it’s dark and staring up at lighted windows, trying to catch glimpses of plants and decorations. Now let me explain:
I grew up as an only child of older working parents. I had plenty of make-believe friends and my imagination could take me anywhere my heart desired. My most favorite thing to do in the world was to read books. I could spend the whole day curled up with a book. My next favorite thing to do was to go through my mother’s old magazines. My parents moved a lot and they were always restoring and decorating some old house. My mother would collect magazines that were full of homes and gardens, plus decorating ideas. When she tired of a magazine she would pass it on to me. I would cut out homes, redone rooms and an assortment of pretty things to put in a house. My house to be exact. I would arrange my cutouts on the floor creating the perfect home. I lived in my head and had no problem spending the afternoon living in those paper homes.
I still live in my head and love to read books. I don’t have imaginary friends anymore. Instead, I have a camera that I try to carry at all times. I was out walking very early this morning by Portsmouth Harbor, when I decided to go into town. I walked downtown, along some of the narrow streets where a lot of the old houses have been turned into condos. Very expensive condos in old houses with small fenced in backyards and cute balconies.
An old house that I particularly love, has been turned into loft condos. There is one that has the cutest little fenced-in front yard. It has a wrought iron gate that opens onto the sidewalk. A stoned walkway leads up to the front door, which is made of beautiful heavy wood and stained glass. An assortment of potted plants and flowers fill the little yard. I always linger by this gate, wondering who lives there and what it looks like inside. This morning, I got a peek.
The door was open and I could see the front room that opened right into the kitchen. Plants hung everywhere and bookshelves lined the walls. I could see a spiral staircase that must lead upstairs. I could see a kitchen at the end. Gorgeous stainless steel appliances under soft lighting. I could hear music in the background. At the sink stood a woman. Her back was to me. I step to the side and snuck another glance. How I wanted to stay and stare. This place looked like it could be in a magazine. But it wasn’t a magazine and I had stayed too long.
When I rounded the corner, I was rewarded with the perfect picture. In another old house, a gray cat was sitting in the window. The curtains were closed, but the cat was lying outside them next to the window pane. I climbed a narrow stone stairway to get as close to the window as possible. I took a few shots and I told myself that it’s alright because the curtains are closed. It was still early and nobody walked by me perched up there snapping away at somebody’s window.
What’s the point to this little story? There is none. It was just nice to be out early in the morning discovering things that you don’t get to see later on in the day. Plus, I didn’t even have to explain to a cop why I was peeking in somebody’s window.
