Other essays on this theme

Essay: "The View from My Cell"

by Cristobal Garcia
I wish I had the view of mountains and valleys. To be able to gaze out and see the clouds kiss the summits. I wish I could observe the wilderness of a pasture. To see horses, cattle, deer, foxes and rabbits on the range. I have a window in front of my cell. And I don’t see anything I wish for.

The window faces into the recreation cages. It is rectangular in shape and extends from one row (first floor) up into three row (third floor.) I live on three row. From here you can glance across the recreation yards into the general population wing. There’s a birds-eye view of the sheet metal roof and the tops of other buildings. There are always a lot of birds perched around. The best scenery to gaze at is the sky.

It’s kind of like TV on a Sunday. Nothing but infomercials, so it can be real boring. And then a storm rides up. The clouds soar along faster and faster finally crashing into each other. In a sudden outburst the breeze gushing through. The fragrance of rain washing out all the prison stink. The light pinks, blues, reds and grays. The purple and black enveloping it all. The lightening extravaganza. The thunder and its song of the Valkyries. Right now, it’s a clear blue sky. Maybe we’ll get some action tonight. A cloud to wish on.