They appear as it gets dark, not murderers, but neighbors.  Dramas made up by me the viewer, that fit into windows across the way, in neighboring buildings, shiny high rises and old factory lofts that remind me of an Edward Hopper painting. They reveal their inner hive as the lights go on. 

It can feel like a cop show where I watch the intake interview, but I remain unseen. Or do I? Was my silly dance observed, my dinner preparation, or the glow of our TV? These are things I can catch a glimpse of from across the alley, or across the street.  Glowing bracelets are a video game or a workout; tiny Christmas lights wrap an interior beam or column, two white haired early risers making their breakfast at the counter.

People are too far away and windows are too small to see a complete scene, just glimpses.  There is enough information to make up the rest of the story or to capture a mood, a setting.  Just seeing people move about provides comfort and reassurance that we are all somehow together living in the city.  It is reflective as well as introspective.  We press our foreheads to plane and train windows in the hopes of catching a sight of something.  We don’t even know what we are looking for. *

The window washers are across the way today.  They are the real Spidermen and they must see it all.  They repel down a tall vertical surface and with an amazingly quick swipe and squeegee the rain and dust of a season is gone and the shiny glass is revealed.  I was caught by surprised to see these super heroes on my balcony washing our windows and popped out to offer a cup of coffee.  Drinking coffee while hanging above the city, now that was a moment.  Clean windows and more chances for looking, daydreaming and finding what connects us.

“It’s not always easy to tell the difference between thinking and looking out the window.”

-Wallace Stevens-

* Exploring Your Mind Blog, August 2018