What I see from my windows is nothing to write home to mother about. My front window looks out at the dooryard littered with the cast off toys of the neghbor kids, the junker the neighbor drives and my own pickup. The side window looks out through the overgrown bougainvillea to the breadfruit tree and the papaya growing on the other neighbor's yard.

The view comes in on the drive down off the mountain where the greenery opens up to reveal the harbor way down below and beyond the wide Pacific Ocean blue to the horizon. Occasionally there is a ship out there. Other times, as this morning, there is a cloud bank with rain squalls pouring grey into the ocean.