My Neighbourhood
When I first joined my neighbourhood many years ago, it was the kind of peaceful environment where the fox and the rabbit say goodnight to each other. My third-floor apartment overlooks a rippling stream, where the ducks gather for a chinwag and the herons make a stopover in their search for dinner. The smells of autumn leaves waft up to me and the pumpkins are piled up in the corner of the garden – a ceaseless reminder of the season.
Without exposing the reader to a bout of “memory lane”, evolution has not looked kindly upon us in the meantime. The inhabitants around me have mostly grazed into the greener pastures of retirement and their hobbies include the close scrutiny of those living around them, from behind net curtains. We have an AGM every April, designed to assuage mounting tensions among certain residents. It is designed for them to voice their long-harboured resentments over issues they perceive to be of primary significance. Grievances over playing children, piddling dogs and overhead aircraft are standard on the agenda and regularly ticked off as noted. Then there are the minutes of the agenda circulated among the residents, to remind them of things they could hardly forget. And the curtains carry on being ruffled as occupants fill out spreadsheets of misdemeanours for the following AGM.
Aside from these little happenings, to convert the neighbourhood into senior quarters, other developments have caused rather more lifestyle disquiet. A traffic phenomena has been unravelling for several years, that sees a rather lengthy rush-hour, extend for 2-3 hours, each morning and each evening. This sees our very small town being used as a through passage for all vehicles travelling to other towns. As enticing as it may be to find ourselves so popular with the world and his wife, twice a day, the road used for this procedure is right alongside our little neighbourhood. In fact, the entire area comes to a complete standstill for several frustrating hours per day. Swamped by the noise and pollution, folk who deliberately moved to this particular vicinity find themselves rather lamenting it, in the twilight of their years.
Does all this bother me? Does it heck! I have my own little oasis of peace and tranquillity, communing with nature, saving lost hedgehogs from the middle of the road, and trying to be a decent and uncomplicated neighbour. I invite some households each year for a yuletide tipple, in the hope of staving off ensuing gripes. They eat and drink bounteously and are temporarily very merry, which is just what we need at the Season of Goodwill, to spread the joy until next Christmas. Mine is the only apartment, festooned with Christmas lights on every balcony, although I just fall short of having Father Christmas climbing up the drainpipe. On this festive note, I silently wish all around me the very best for this Yuletide season, with the warmest greetings I can share around me, even if they are Swiss.
Photo: Pexels / Brett Sayles