after loving joe and nicky and the old guard for so long, my love for them now is quite different than two years ago.
I have taken the habit of letting my mind wander with no music or digital distractions for increasing intervals of time after I come home from work, a timer on my phone (screen down), while I sit on the garden chair I put in the small balcony. my neighbours are richer than I'll ever be, and there's quite a bit of that I can see from a fifth floor balcony. there's the distant wall of a convent, from which I entertain the idea of seeing the nuns tending to the garden, in reality fleeting, small dots of white clothes, and in between me and the nuns there are the neighbours' gardens, hedges-defined squares of green, a cascading sequence of stone steps in between neat portions of vegetable plots. blots of green, as a colour instead of living things, are my favourite to observe, especially in spring when leaves are so fresh it's like they were painted with the light itself. I like letting my mind wander; it's easier when there's a breeze, and the top of the tallest beech sways, entertaining me. Birds flying past me are a much more frequent occurrence than my cynical urban heart expected.
Yesterday I realised, two years in my surveying of the rich neighbours' gardens, that there’s actually two properties, and that the tall beech and the beautiful garden (not too polished, wildflowers allowed until forced eviction every few weeks, a green hose reel cart left there that completes the picture in a way that delights me, though I could not tell you why) belonged to a different house, hidden behind the wall of hazel trees. I always thought it was all part of the patrician estate (two pools, gardens, too-big house) that is so effectively expensive it changes hands every five years. at least the dogs of the temporary neighbours always love it until they have to leave.
yesterday I found the hidden neighbours (double couple, one of guests, visitation hours cut short at 7pm after what I presume were hours of chatter) sitting at what I call the Bad Bunny corner, since until now the setup of plastic white chairs and table was left abandoned in a way that reminded me of dtmf and an abandoned childhood. They were chatting loudly, disturbing my inner peace, and after a few minutes of studying I realised my annoyance was pure envy. They were in a beautiful garden, arguing and agreeing in tides of conversation, cards put away before the final goodbyes. They made me think of old friends of mine, stirred a distant wish of writing frenzy I have not had in a while.
They reminded me of Joe and Nicky :)
