Image: © NEKNEERAJ, 2019
When I had foot surgery, I was confined to home for a few weeks. I’d sit and look out the window and take in the view, and all that was going on beyond.
I was reminded of the Hitchcock film, “Rear Window” where the character is stuck in his apartment with a broken leg. His apartment is surrounded on three sides by other apartments the occupants of which leave their blinds open for him to see what is going on in their lives.
Mine view wasn’t quite as exciting as that as mine was dominated by the tower in the middle of the park. If I leant close enough to the windowsill, I could see down into the park where the joggers, the walkers and the lonely spent their day.
The tower had its own tales, of a history of productivity, mystery and tragedy. Originally it had been a shot tower for the making of lead shot and then later used as a watchtower, what for I could never ascertain. But always it had been a place where sad events took place. More than one lover had thrown themselves from the top, more than one unfortunate had been the victim of gang mentality.
Being stuck at home gave me the opportunity to research the tower, read all the accounts of woe and achievement attributed to it.
Being in one place for an amount of time and being observant you begin to see people in the same spot each day, and when you don’t, you wonder why they aren’t there, like the old lady and her small dog. Each morning I’d see her wander along and sit on the same bench, her dog beside her. She’d sit there a while, maybe to take in the scenery, maybe to get her breath back and then off they’d totter until the next morning.
One morning she didn’t appear, and I worried all day something had happened to her. But it was a relief to see her back there the next day.
It’s odd the investment you make in other people’s lives when you have only assumption to use as to who they are, where they are going and why they are there.
When I was more mobile, I did go into the park to see up close what I could see from a distance.