new planet

Here, in a new place, we are closer to the train, the sky. A livelier block, the block at the end of our “old” block, our old lives. How much difference 100 feet makes.

Here, there’s no view from the alley of terraces, but there is a view of a whole planet of Brooklyn life, from a three-story fire escape. If I’m quiet, no one on the ground sees me unless they think to look up. Perched with my friends the squirrels on this thing painted with decades of rust, I watch:

• cats growing in feral backyards
• a giant blue spruce (native to western U.S.) taking up an entire backyard
• decks & roofs in various states of (dis)repair
• a kudzu tower hiding god knows what
• the southern sky pinking and purpling like a light winter bruise you don’t know how you got
• a field of rooftop poles
• the spaceship of a water tower atop the converted warehouses
• neighbors roaming their glowing apartments

We’re not oblivious here in the city…we know we could be being watched at any minute. We adjust our lives to be seen from afar. We don’t mind.