The Colors of Autumn
Although in Puerto Rico it’s always summer
There’s a group on Facebook that posts photos taken during the pandemic. A single photo is accepted from each member and it must be of their view from a window or porch — with no people or pets — just the things seen outside by someone inside. There is little text, just where and when the photo was taken (like my photo above) and a few optional words about it.
I visit View from My Window often. Why? I like seeing what others see when they are housebound. Some see snow or rain, most see gardens and sun, some see mountains, others see deserts, lakes, ponds or a sea. Some see rooftops, cluttered streets or solitary back alleys. Since members live all over the globe, I can see every season in a few moments simply by scrolling through their pictures.
In tropical Puerto Rico, seasons don’t change. It is now autumn, mid-October, yet the same flowers are blooming as they did in spring and winter. I have often mused that by not experiencing the change of seasons, I also do not change: I, too, am immutable. It is a pleasant, fanciful, and inherently false notion, but not my point.
