Other People's Lives

 

Behind our (ugly) thuja hedge - not the one in the photo - is a row of terraced houses. I might have seen some its inhabitants about in the village, but I would not know unless I hear them talk. In the past 4+ years that I have lived at the country house (part-time) I feel I have got to know these people "acoustically" at least. During lockdown when everybody was at home, making the most of their gardens you heard quite a bit of your neighbours near and far. You began to recognise where mouth-watering barbecue smells would come from as well as wish some people had better taste in music and friends when they held garden parties. As regards families in those terraced houses we have given some of them nicknames, such as "mansplainer" and "boysplainer" (possibly father and son) who have annoying voices and who like to lecture people loudly. We also know that there is a certain Benjamin, who must be of primary school age by now. His mother loves to cheer him on and so we hear "BRAVO, Benjamin!" a lot, imagining what kinds of magic tricks he might be performing. Probably riding the bike on his own for the first time and some such milestones. It's all a bit like a random radio show that you don't consciously tune into, but catch snippets of occasionally and have become semi-familiar with over the years.