Maybe it was a childhood of growing up in a suburban single-family home, but I remember as a child being fascinated by those Indian pueblos, all those homes stuck one on top of another. It looked like fun, maybe climbing a ladder up to your neighbor.
You might sacrifice a little privacy
in condo living, but one bonus is the availability of small conversations on
your way to empty the trash. Yesterday I was loading things in the back of my
car when my upstairs neighbor stopped to chat. She’s an interesting person,
working as a life coach while her retired podiatrist husband acts as a docent
at the local history museum.
We went through the conversation I
swear we have every time, in which she asks if we hear her dog barking or if
she and her husband are too loud. Sandwiched as she is on the second floor, I
guess she knows what it is to hear the neighbor above. I’m used to it now, but that
was an adjustment when we first moved in, hearing footsteps above. I assured
her they were fine, (even though today, like every other day, I woke up at 6:30 a.m. to
their distant walking as they started their day) much better than the people
they replaced who I’m convinced threw on hobnail boots and spiked heels as soon
as they were out of bed.
I remarked that this year I hadn’t
seen much – if any – wildlife out on our small pond. Moorhens used to nest in
the grasses by the bridge, mallards would be out there honking, and we’d sit
out on the porch and watch the herons stalk by. Granted, we’d had an alligator last
year, but I’m happy to say he was removed so he couldn’t be the cause.
She said, “Oh, that’s because Linda’s stopped feeding the birds.”
This was surprising, because in the
past every morning I’d see her outside tossing bird seed into the grass. At
least it wasn’t white bread, which a past (moved, thank goodness) next-door
neighbor here used to scatter. White bread offers no more nutritional value to
wild animals than it does to us.
“So, why'd she stop?” I asked.
“Because of the rats.”
In Linda's eagerness to draw in her
feathered friends, she’d gained a few others.
Nice to have a mystery solved.
ReplyDeleteOddly. I have often thought about what would happen if hubby and I had to move to a retirement community or even a home. Could I feed the birds or would the residents complain because it brings mice and rats???
ReplyDeleteI doubt if they'd be happy.
DeleteThat's a dilemma! I'd miss the birds.
ReplyDelete(shudder) Who wants rats? I stopped feeding the birds because of all the squirrels.
ReplyDeleteRats is one reason I stopped feeding the birds here, the other reason being the cost. In the beginning it was just a few birds but that soon grew to a flock of thirty.
ReplyDeleteI'm still not happy to have sacrificed a little privacy in spite of being here 12 years now. My current upstairs neighbour keeps to herself as I do, but when she stops by "just to say hello" I cringe inside because her hello is often ten thousand words long and I'm not a talker. The picture of your pond looks so peaceful.
Always a danger with feeding birds. We've had rats get into our bird feeders here. Not pretty!
ReplyDeleteNow that I think of it, I don't think I've ever seen a rat in the wild. We do have a large bunny and squirrel contingent, which I realize is preferrable. Definitely so to alligators!
ReplyDeleteWe've thought about our next downsize. Townhome is appealing, but having someone living above or below - not so much. There are worse things.