I saw them on walks in Lexington, what we had when I was growing up, what I see in older houses still, but not as much anymore.

The picture window provides an unbroken look at the out-of-doors. No parceled glimpses of street or flower or tree. The picture window is open and unbroken.

Or at least mine was. It was the way I first looked out at the world, and I wonder if it accounts for the fact that I like to be out in it now.

Picture windows, I read, are non-opening windows that allow light into a room. Ah yes, that’s right. That window didn’t open.

What strikes me now about the picture window is its name, which doesn’t refer to panes or light but to framing. The picture window frames what it sees and presents it to us brightly and tidily.

The world in a frame. Almost.