Lit By The World

Annmarie Throckmorton, M.A.
3 days ago
4 min read

In my tiny little senior apartment only one window of the three rather large windows that I have are suitable for putting my face into the sunshine. I papered over the other two windows against the glare of stares from other residents passing by and peering in. While I was doing this one old fellow actually came to my door and asked me not to cover my windows, saying pitifully that he likes to look in as he passes by. (I suppose senility will make fools of most of us sooner or later, hopefully not me.) I was actually a little sad to tell him no, the windows must be papered over, as we stood on the public sidewalk just a few feet from my living room window.

My bedroom window is fairly large for such a small room but of necessity the window is located a few feet from the foot of my bed so no sunshine to be had there, only opaque paper from window sill up to ceiling.

I lean into the sunshine by resting my forearms on my cat's window viewing stand in the living room. I do this several times a day to ease my eyes in the soft Maine sunshine. It feels good, calming, a mystical connection through the rays of the Sun. AI Copilot summarizes the possible medicinal benefits, "Moderate exposure to natural sunlight through the eyes supports brain function, circadian rhythm, vitamin D production, and healthy eye development." At my age I would be quite grateful for even a modicum of healing.

Anyway yesterday one of my more remote neighbors, a resident in a nearby building of this housing complex, let's call her C, cut behind the cars parked in the lot and came across a small lawn to walk 2' from my viewing window. Does she and/or others do this often, perhaps to listen in and hear what I am about? Why not knock on the door and ask me what I am doing? Weird. Well, C was quite startled and then annoyed when I said, "Hi." She was two feet from my nose at the time so I thought it appropriate to greet her. She nervously told me that she was, "visiting someone to tell them something." I did not ask who or what. Then, to get her own back she asked me to come outside. I have had pleasant enough previous interactions with her and so I went out and found her standing over the little garden that I had made (with management's approval) two years ago. It is a 3' by 10' strip of earth between the concrete public sidewalk entering this building and the vinyl wall of my apartment.

In a sort of proprietary way that seemed strange as C, again, lives in a completely different building, she told me that the large plant that I had inherited at the end of my garden is a Geranium. Okay, I remember that I asked her last year if she knew what it was. I also inherited the previous resident's fragile yellow rose and although I never met her I was hoping to keep it alive in her memory. C sourly said that I should not have put in my bronze Ajuga as it spreads, and she was not sweetened when I said that the plants already in my garden are mature enough to withstand the ground-covering Ajuga, it will just fill in the earth between plants so I do not have to do much weeding. (This garden was very weedy when I took it over.) Also, Ajuga flowers with very pretty miniature blue-purple spikes from spring to autumn, and my mother had been partial to it. C was not impressed.

For the umpteenth time, C admonished me that I should not let my domesticated feral cat out as free-roaming is not allowed in this complex. Be that as it may, I have informal approval to let my cat out sometimes so I ignored C's demand with silence. I did not argue with her that he is current on his rabies shots, wears a flea collar, and I only let him out when I can listen for any noisy problem he might get into. It literally hurts my heart to argue with anyone, both physically and metaphorically. C saw that she could not bend me into unhappy compliance with her rules so she slyly told me that she has clippers and she will come back and clip my 14" rose bushes down to 4", bending over to grab at the base of my 14" rose bush to show me where she would cut it. I told her no. She said yes. I went inside my apartment. I cannot continuously guard that tiny, little strip of garden so I may have to let it go and mind my own business inside my own apartment. I wish C had done the same.

I am a pupil lit by the world.