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“ … THE EYE IS NOT SATISFIED WITH SEEING … “ —ECCLESIASTES 1:8

T he eyes watched Sydney get into her jeep and head west in the opposite direction of town.

She pulled into the overgrown driveway of a moderate-sized older home. At first he thought she was lost and looking for a place to turn around. Then he realized she’d turned off the motor and parked. He pulled behind some bushes, took out his binoculars, and waited. He looked down at his watch. Five minutes passed, and she was still sitting in the jeep, staring at the house. He watched her get out and walk up the steps. She knocked on the door. No one answered. Why was she here?

Instead of going back to her vehicle, Sydney walked around on the porch. She stopped at an old rocking chair situated on the far end and paused long enough to caress the back with her hand. He watched through the binoculars as she walked down the steps and across the yard to a huge sycamore tree where a swing was hanging from one of the giant limbs. She took off her shoes and bag and laid them by the swing. A few moments later, her long, blonde hair blew through the wind while she swung higher and higher with her eyes closed and her head tilted back. Tears were streaming down her face, glistening in the afternoon sun.