When I was a very little girl, I would be packed into the back seat of a sedan with my sisters and off we would go on outings. I don't remember much about where our family went, but I do remember the trips home in the dark. The radio was always on, often with some broadcast of a series. As we listened to the stories, I looked out the car window at the farmhouses we passed. Some of them had picture windows, a relatively new idea back then. Through those big windows, I could see people moving around in lighted rooms.
Who were they? I wondered. Did they know that people driving by were looking in on their lives? None of them knew the name of that little girl, yet there I was, watching what they were doing, even if it was only a burst of information as we went by. It was a nosiness that has stuck with me all my writing life.
Now I am writing a daily blog. The "stats" information Blogspot provides doesn't tell me the names of those who are reading my words, but it does tell me what countries they come from. This week, I know that besides the many American readers, citizens from France, China, Egypt, India, Latvia, and others have been looking in to see what I am doing.
I am like those people in the picture windows. I am not certain who is checking in to see what is happening in my life. I can guess that the fifteen Germans who suddenly appear together on the Blogspot radar are students who are studying English. I wonder if the once a day visitor from France might be the penpal I've had for over thirty years. Is the UK visitor Nancy? I am certain that Rocky is checking in on me from Amsterdam. But who are the rest?
I will keep the curtains open on my window and let the world watch. But who are you watchers? I wish I knew.
No comments:
Post a Comment