I bet it’s amusing to work in a window cubicle in the Station Park buildings at Wellington and Richmond. The three buildings take up nearly a block’s length of city sidewalk, just one long facade of tinted glass window.

I know from walking past them, to and from the bus stop everyday, that it is nearly impossible not to look at the glass. It’s simply fascinating to see the world in mirror reflection. You see the rows of yellow brick two-stories on lush green front lawns, and people mowing those lawns, or people ambling along on the sidewalk with their dogs. They can’t tell you’re watching them. It’s a subtle form of voyeurism, and it’s all the more enticing because it almost cannot be helped.

And, of course, you see yourself in the mirror glass, too. That may be the most mesmerizing aspect of it. You see yourself in motion, you are watching yourself walk down a long runway, you are checking furtively to make sure your hair is tidy. If you are just passing by, you may look at your reflection three or four times very quickly. If you are an employee in one of the building’s law firms, standing outside waiting for a taxi , you may check yourself up and down unconsciously. You might pick your teeth, even, who knows?

But you will look at yourself. It’s human nature. If you don’t believe me, come by some afternoon and take a long, leisurely walk past the mirror wall.

Just remember that there are people inside, sitting at their desks or in waiting areas, who may be looking at you look at yourself. They’ve probably seen that spectacle so regularly that it is nothing more than an occasional, silent diversion from the tedium of work.