Showing posts from September, 2007

Life in Lighted Windows

Everyone has a story.

Now don’t mistake this for “true confessions of a peeping Jane,” but for years I’ve had this strange interest in looking at houses. I especially love the charming or grand homes--driving past them at night and seeing their lighted windows. Sometimes I'll catch a glimpse of the homeowner's d├ęcor or a flash of activity, and then imagine the stories going on within those illuminated windows.

I’m also intrigued by mountain shacks you sometimes see all alone beside a stream, or curious little houses tucked away in a grove of trees. Who lives in those places? Perhaps a family of gnomes? A deranged killer, hiding out? An elderly lady who believes she owns any creature that crosses her property line? And if I lived there, what would my life be like? What would my story be?

Years ago when I lived in New York City, I had that same lighted-window awareness. My apartment faced the Empire State Building, and I could see it standing in the distance. The surrounding buildi…