From my window

It's lunch break time, and story time, both!

Alert reader Rob Pierce pitched me a challenge to write over my lunch break about something I can see from my window at work.  Very well, sir, I accept.

1.  The window itself.  I see it. 
2.  I can see things much better from outside of it.
3.  The bottom half of my window has a screen.
4.  I have a bug's eye view of the neighborhood.
5.  I can see the roof of a garage that holds a ballet studio and class space.
6.  There is a lilac bush in front of the garage.
7.  Lilac season is just over.
8.  I see power lines, telephone lines, unidentified sky lines, criss-crossing the lots and alley way.
9.  Clouds: white, gray, a muted cobalt blue.
10.  Sky: clear and bright at the top through the clouds, faint and muted over the edges.
11.  The red maple tree takes up about one quarter of the lower half of my window, when I am seated.
12.  I see seven other distinctive trees from my window.
13.  Plus a wall of pines on the horizon, past the freeeway.
14.  There being also a freeway.
15.  Lots of semi trucks, many cars, clear of congestion, good speed.
16.  There is sun shining somewhere today.
17.  Starting at about three o'clock, the sun shines off a neighboring roof.
18.  The glare pierces me at eye level.
19.  I pull down the blinds.
20.  On days when there is sun.
21.  The maple is bouncing, waving, swaying, breathing.  Lifted.
22.  The lilac bush is fluttering, waving, loose.
23.  The leaves on the tree across the alley are supple, verdant, shimmying and shining.
24.  I am breathing, lifted, pressing and depressing my phalanges.
25.  Meeting and receiving the welcome offered in their stable, fluid, reaching movements.