You say I'm to small to see out the window but just because I can't see the garden shed or the flowerbeds doesn't mean I don't see the view. From my position sitting on the floor I can look out at the wisps of clouds as the float across the sparkling blue sky, I can watch the birds twist and soar as the play their joyful games. I can see the smoke from the farm's chimney and the tops of trees littered with birds singing of their happy days. You claim I can't see but to me it is you who is loosing out on the magical skyward world I can view with ease. From the corner, from a distant land an aeroplane drags it's signature across my view, like a giant finger signing this work of art. I see further than you do, my view does not end at the garden wall but stretches on further than you can imagine. I know that as I grow my view will change, from the same window I will see, as you do, the garden shed and flowerbeds. Until then I shall live in my skyworld, seeing the heights that only get noticed by those to small to see anything else, to small to see anything but the bigger picture.