My “office,” an English classroom in a middle school in South Korea, has a view on either side.
To the right, I can see a wide, swampy rice paddy with craggy mountains behind it. The sagging farmer’s shed tells me someone tends the field, but I rarely see a soul. To the left, a wide street of loud motorbikes, car horns, buses. Shops and restaurants are stacked in narrow buildings, their bright signs hanging over the sidewalk. Somewhere, there’s always scaffolding, always the noise of construction. I feel lucky for the contrast.
There are a lot of Matadorians with lucky windowscapes, too. Staff and supporters contributed shots of their awesome views, from downtown rooftops to the Grand Canyon.