Where is she going? I wondered, staring out the window of my living room as I ate my breakfast this morning. I don't usually have time to ponder the comings and goings of my neighbors in the mornings, but Thursdays are the exception, as I don't have class until the afternoon. So, I make myself some eggs over easy with a toasted English muffin, sip my hazelnut coffee, and stare out of our windows.
Our apartment complex isn't the most action-packed scene, but I've gotten to know the cadence of our little community over the past couple of months. The various dog-walkers are the most common players on our grassy stage--and, how exciting when more than one dog enters a scene, barking, sniffing, pulling along their masters with the vigor of a squirrel-chase!
Children and their parents are another common scene. When the weather was warmer, there were two little girls who would drag out an elaborate collection of bubble-blowing devices, running across our lawn to generate as many bubbles as possible, then giggling madly as they proceeded to destroy their creations. Some of the bubbles survived the massacre, floating serenely to the height of my third-story vantage point.
I learned that plumes of smoke billowing in front of my windows were not to be a cause of alarm, but rather indicated that the man with the little Weber barbecue pit was out again. During the warmer weather, he was out there at least twice a week! I contemplated sneaking out there to roast marshmallows when he went inside to eat his steaks, but I was never so bold.
It is more difficult to peek into the windows of our neighboring buildings, as most people pull down their blinds, to my dismay. When the blinds are up at night, I can mostly make out the ever-changing illumination of television sets. My apartment doesn't have a television--perhaps one of the reasons that I stare out of the window.
In the dorms last year, my view was of I-395, which sounds boring, but actually offered some interesting scenes. Most memorable was the time that I was awakened at 2 a.m. to the sound of a car crash. It appeared that the two cars knew each other, as the people from one car all quickly emptied the contents of their trunk and piled into the other, speeding off, abandoning not only the car that had been rendered immobile, but also one of the passengers! He ran after the car for a little while, then gave up, instead being forced to deal with the police, who showed up a few minute later. Shady, indeed.
The most common view was that of backed-up traffic jams in the evenings, but there were other, more curious sights as well. There was the man who screamed about salvation into his bullhorn. When the Barnum & Bailey circus was in town, I watched elephants parade on 3rd Street after a show. During the G-20 summit, I saw many motorcades. Being on the 8th floor, I had a great view of many storms. Perhaps my favorite view was the day of the Inauguration, when they shut down the freeway for pedestrian traffic, which was a very bizarre sight to behold:
This post was prompted by an article in today's New York Times, Window Watchers in a City of Strangers. I agree with the premise of the article, that, in staring out of my window, I feel more connected to my community. What do you think? Are you a window watcher? What have you witnessed?






