Look Inside

My wife thinks it’s kind of creepy that I enjoy walking around neighborhoods with open eyes just after dusk when people are getting settled in for the evening but before they draw their blinds or curtains.

I promise that I’m not a weirdo voyeur or anything. I never linger; oftentimes, I’m jogging by or walking briskly to a specified destination. 

I simply find it heart filling to see people interacting in their homes – preparing meals, laughing, flipping channels, doing chores.  My views are limited to a second or two, and that’s really all that’s nececessary (and defensible in a court of law).

It’s a more personalized form of window shopping, and I do like doing that, too. I do it on Grand Avenue, in the Highland Village, on West Seventh and in the skyways. Not to mention everywhere else I go in the world.

I don’t peep at my neighbors and I don’t bring a binoculars with me on trips that involve staying in hotels. I have eyes, I use them, and I generally like what I see. People living comfortable lives in their unique homes, even in homes they don’t own.

While picking up Chinese food about a month ago, I caught a glimpse of about a dozen households in action at once in an apartment building next to the parking lot. All those self-contained stories separated by slivers of ceiling and wall. 

I found the scene encouraging above all else. But you should probably be careful of the opinions of a creepy weirdo like me.

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