Rear Window
I have only now realised that in our previous two abodes, we could not see sky from our windows. Sometimes we could see a rosy glow on the walls of houses opposite that would tell us that there was probably a nice light or soft sunset.
Now we live on the 7th floor with plenty of sky views on two sides; north and south. I love to watch the birds wheel and dart and fight their aerial battles and glide onto the chimneys where I imagine (but cannot see) they settle on their hidden rooftop nests. I love to lie in bed and watch the summer cloud wisps turn neon for hours. I love to stand at the window and watch the rain pour down from darkened skies and listen to it thwacking heavily on the tin window lining. I love watching young parents making their painfully slow journeys home while their kids stomp through the puddles and run circles around poles and throw down their trikes, howling in frustration. I love watching the elderly couples slowly, methodically beating the dust from their rugs on the frames for that purpose under the midday sun. I love watching the kids skate through the courtyard in the evenings, sending the gravelly scrshhh sound of their wheels echoing up between buildings.
And I love watching the neighbours watching the sky, the birds, the courtyard, each other and me.
Sometimes I feel like apartment living is maligned for its density and lack of privacy. But as an outsider in a foreign land, I am grateful the sense of connection I get from being able to see other people living their lives around me. We are a quiet community, bound by shared sights, sounds, smells and exasperated ‘kids these days!’ thoughts when we see youth break onto the roofs and run between buildings. We are old and we are young, we care for pets, plants or children, we are custodians of the courtyard and the apartment regulations and, I like to think, each other.
