<h3>By Lee Scott</h3>
A recent post by one of my friends on social media asked what people considered their favorite sight when looking out the window.

It was fascinating to read and see the favorite scenes that people revealed. Some of the examples included the ocean waves on the beach; a snow-covered mountain with ski slopes; the desert with mesas in the background; the New York City skyline.

As I went back through the posts and read the different comments, I realized that their windows were a reflection of them and revealed their own passions: the sailor who loved the water, the skier that longed for the slopes, the hiker who enjoyed camping out in the desert and the entertainer who loved the city.

It got even more interesting as the number of comments increased. While reading the posts, I discovered new insights about some of my friends.

For the couple who struggled for years to have children, the view was looking out of their kitchen window into their yard and watching their children running through the sprinkler.

For my friend that had always wanted to go to France, the sight of the Eiffel Tower from her hotel room was important.

Many people mentioned wanting to look out the window at the Magic Kingdom.

For a woman driving home from a tough day at work, looking out the car window at the sight of her own garage was enough for that day.

For many immigrants, looking out the ship’s window and seeing the Statue of Liberty for the first time is their favorite scene.

Then there are the soldiers returning home and looking out the airplane window, knowing family and friends are waiting for them.

I thought of the window scenes I have loved seeing during my own life. Looking out my hotel window in Hawaii and watching the sun set over Molokai; the view of the water out my cousin’s window in Galilee, R.I.; the sight of my husband pulling into the driveway when I went into labor with our first child.

Our favorite scenes outside our windows change throughout our lifetime, but my favorite scene now is the one in front of me: The South Carolina sun rising on Jenkins Creek. I do not have to imagine it.