Changing Your Point of View

Here at Winterpast, days move at their own pace. Morning sunlight dapples through the trees, birds call from hidden branches, and the breeze carries with it the quiet reassurance of routine. Another pair of Robins busy themselves feeding the newest babies in plain sight on the patio. The bees are buzzing about, while Oliver continues on his hunt for anything edible, including grubs.

Oliver will never change. After he finds something delicious and nutritious, it’s off to his lair under the dining room table. Slowly, I’m being trained that if I offer him a BETTER treat than the one clamped between his jaws with the strength of a pit bull, he MIGHT consider a trade. So far, I’m up three rotten apples and a very disgusting grub that measured at least 2.5″. Well, at least some progress has been made.

The view under the apricot tree

The peaceful rhythm of Winterpast is one that invites reflection. Lately, HHH has found a new way to engage with that rhythm by simply changing his location. In various spots around the yard, he’s placed seating, some more comfortable than others. Each seat offers a different view of the same space. Some days, he faces the back fence and watches for the dreaded squirrel. Other days, he turns toward the house, letting memories and stillness settle in.

The gardens of Winterpast

It’s the simple act of changing perspective, which changes everything because changing your seat changes your sight. What was once overlooked becomes the focal point. A path you’ve walked a hundred times becomes new again. From a different angle, a patch of weeds becomes a wildflower bed. That’s the power of perspective.

Off to the vegetable garden

And what’s true in the yard is just as true in life. The way we choose to see the world shapes how we experience it. Optimism and pessimism face the same reality, but from two entirely different seats. One sees challenge as a possibility while the other sees it as a wall. One notices beauty in the overlooked corners while the other only notices what’s missing.

Choosing optimism doesn’t mean ignoring difficulty but looking at life from a place of hope. It means pausing, shifting your stance, and saying, “Maybe there’s more to this than I first thought”, or “What lessons can I learn from this?”

Winterpast — at the back fence

That’s what HHH has discovered here at Winterpast. Sometimes the most powerful change doesn’t come from going somewhere new but from seeing the same place with new eyes.

So, whether you’re in a backyard, a busy season of life, or just a quiet moment with yourself, try moving to a new vantage point. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and look again. You might be surprised by how the view changes.

More tomorrow.