Depending upon how one chooses to look at things, perspective makes all the difference. The word perspective has a multitude of meanings which reflect the variety of interpretations: outlook, view, viewpoint, point of view, standpoint, position, stand, stance, angle, slant, attitude, frame of mind, frame of reference, approach, way of looking/thinking, vantage point. In short, one’s perspective is largely determinative of how and what one experiences. The word derives its meaning from not only what is seen but also from the character of the observer.
My introduction to the word was in Paris, France when I was 15 years old. The chap whom we had met at le Tour Eiffel or les Jardins des Tuileries was a fellow student (my companion Ricardo Schmeichler and I were then attending Alliance Française as international students for the summer). The stranger casually asked, “Quelle est votre perspective?” When I hesitated, he explained, “What are you studying?” In an instant I awakened to an enlarged view of life. Things – by my reckoning from this stance – were not merely definitive textbook explanations; rather, perspective was an individual’s personal reflection.
The Tuileries Garden is a public garden between the Louvre and the Place de la Concorde in the 1st arrondissement of Paris, France. Created by Catherine de’ Medici as the garden of the Tuileries Palace in 1564, it was opened to the public in 1667 and became a public park after the French Revolution. Since the 19th century, it has been a place for Parisians to celebrate, meet, stroll and relax. Covering an area of 25.5 hectares (63 acres), it is one of the most iconic parks in Paris.
Today here in Mississippi Mills was by any standard (or, dare I say, perspective) a dull, blurry, rainy, soggy, uninviting day. Indeed so uninspiring was the springtime weather that I confess to having remained inert beneath the down duvet until precisely noon today. Well, actually, it was eight minutes past the hour.
Notwithstanding my shameful indolence, I felt so noticeably improved by the preceding many hours of sleep that I practically sprang from my couch and immediately engaged my limited resources in completion of the ritual preliminary imperatives – shower, dressing and breakfast. Immediately thereafter (acceleration was important to overcome the temporal narrowness) I focussed upon tricycling in the subterranean garage where I accomplished the customary forgiving tour of 3 kms. By then I had regained some of my former balance when addressing the mechanism of survival.
And a good thing too! Broiling in my email In-basket was gripping correspondence from friends – one, my ancient friend Fiona who accounted a delightful reminiscence about her octogenarian mother; another, from my friend “js“on his 200-acre peninsula along the North Channel of Lake Huron.
But before I had the advantage of absorbing the missives we momentarily escaped the drizzle and retired on this dreary wet day to the welcoming venue of Equator Coffee in town. There I happily rejuvenated myself with an exceptionally prepared espresso, served appropriately in a suitable (not too large, not too small) porcelain coffee cup on a matching saucer complete with a small but redundant spoon (I no longer add sugar). The nec plus ultra! It was during this physical and psychological recovery that I noticed a gentleman seated nearby, alone. He appeared to be working on his iPad (or similar device).
He was unmistakably adorned in a handsome handmade woollen sweater, ideally suitable for the damp day. He had in addition the mien of an artist. I am partial to the artistic feature. I contemplated whether he might know Stephen E. C. Brathwaite. I did however limit my involvement to idyll speculation. I resisted the peril of contaminating my private postulation. I was rewarded for this uncommon nicety not long afterwards when I received an invigorating telephone call from my northern Ontario friend “js” who shared with me his and his wife’s current paradise skipping from the frozen lake waters to their wood burning stove-heated sauna. He coincidentally introduced me to Google Earth
Google Earth is a web and computer program created by Google that renders a 3D representation of Earth based primarily on satellite imagery. The program maps the Earth by superimposing satellite images, aerial photography, and GIS data onto a 3D globe, allowing users to see cities and landscapes from various angles.
Following preliminary digestion of Google Earth (I downloaded the APP) I shared with my erstwhile physician (who is presently languishing on his Siesta Key property) a satellite image of his country estate in the Village of Ashton. Thence he shared with me his own perspective (the Featured Image of this piece). In the result I felt entirely replenished with social accommodation and its unwitting benefit. Nor, might I add, was I even remotely provoked to alter my current perspective. Which is not to say I hadn’t esteem for the perspective of others; merely that my present bearing was rewarding and sufficient.
This imperturbable view of the world is not however the unsettled regard of everyone. The adventurous travel component of some is beyond qualification. Yet for one such as I – having mobility issues and also the more redeeming and singular love of what is at hand – the global perspective is more immediate. I say this not as a comparison; rather, it is simple statement of truth. Even astronauts must eventually return to earth. That, at least, is my hard-nosed perspective!