Perspective

A rusty window in the attic, with green leaves outside. The brown of the old frame and the fresh green caught my eye. They are so close, yet each shows time passing in its own way.

I like the quiet of attics. We rarely go up there, and when we do, we often spend a little longer looking at things left behind. At this window, the light and the leaves outside made me stay.

The rust slowly spreads, while new leaves grow each year. That is what stayed with me: the marks of past years inside, and another season outside. Through the window, we can see both in one moment.