There’s something deeply peaceful about looking out a window.
Especially when there’s green and water outside — trees swaying gently, raindrops tracing soft paths, or sunlight spilling over leaves. I’ve always loved watching the sky and the stars through my window. It makes me feel like I belong to the sky, like I’m a small part of something vast and beautiful.
Whether it’s a bright, golden morning or a rainy afternoon full of whispers, I’m drawn to that view. It’s a quiet ritual — sitting by the window, surrounded by my plants, simply watching. Once, I saw a herd of cows slowly crossing the road. To some, it may have looked chaotic, but to me, it felt completely normal. Natural.
My plants are the perfect company — silent, alive, present. No conversations. Just stillness.
Sometimes I wonder what happens to all our tangled, complex thoughts when we sit quietly with nature. When we stop trying to control everything and simply observe. Something softens. Something clears. We begin to remember that we are nature, not separate from it.
And yet, in forgetting that, we harm ourselves. We damage the very world that created us.
Nobody else is killing nature.
We are.
Which means we’re killing ourselves.
Maybe the peace we feel at the window is our soul recognizing its true home.