I sit on the tatami and look out the window. Sometimes I see a great deal, the birds chirping in the trees, the early morning dew on the grass. There are days when I see fire and rain, the sun peeking through the blinds on to the wooden floor in front of me and slowly drifting from one side of the room to the other, the moonlight making pictures on the walls. I watch the cars and trucks pass with their white and red lights. I often think I can see everything from here to Tokyo. Then other times I am reminded I see nothing.