money and a room of one's own notwithstanding

A good view makes all the difference in the world.

Today I'm feeling a little blue. I don't feel like writing. I also don't feel like reading anything related to my dissertation. One can only read so many essays and books on involuntary sterilization without starting to feel a little, um, disenchanted with the human race.

However, it feels a little irresponsible to wallow in self-pity when one has not one but two places to write with such beautiful views. The pictures can't do justice to the autumn leaves and the bustling street below, but they do hint at the "treehouse" feel of our apartment. We're on the second floor: in the trees, but not so high that moving will be a chore.

This first shot shows the view out my office window. As I face my computer, the window is at my left, about a foot and a half away. The bottom of the window sill is shoulder-high, so I can look out, but the folks on the ground can’t see much more of me than the top of my head (perfect for early morning writing in a robe and slippers). We live on a corner one block from the main street in Clifton. There is lots of foot traffic here as people walk up to Ludlow.



The second shot looks up from my seat at our “dining room” table. We took the screens off the windows to improve the view. It means more moths (which I’m constantly ushering out of the apartment so that they don’t get into my wool) but I think it’s worth it to have the old windows fully visible. Even when the ash outside doesn’t have leaves, the view is still gorgeous. I love tree branches against a winter sky.



So, with that, I’ll head back to work. I wonder if Virginia Woolf would have felt better had she left the stuffy library and found a room with a view instead.