Exotic yet ordinary

There is a window behind my desk. I share it with a neighboring co-worker and anyone else on the third floor who happens to pass by. It is drafty and can make the winter months ridiculously cold, and the view isn't always terribly interesting. My supervisor has offered to let any of us on the north side of the building move to a desk on the other side of the office, away from the windows. But, it is through my window that I notice the first color bursts of autumn on the hill and the fluffy cottonball clouds and tiny, dare-devil insects resting on the screen in the summer and that 6th street cracked and splintered after a particularly bad ice storm a few years ago. On trips to the printer, I notice little old ladies going to their hair appointments at the beauty shop and the kindness shown to those who come on Tuesdays and Thursdays for a sack of groceries at the food pantry next door. I notice the absence of sunlight on overcast days and how sometimes only every other square of sidewalk across the street appears to be wet when it rains. And in early November I begin to watch for the first signs of the holidays as decorations start to appear downtown. In fact, the first Christmas tree made its appearance on a corner street lamp this afternoon with the help of some city workers. I guess it is for these reasons I have never moved. I need the view, even if it is just the small view from my drafty window.