A city view offers so many interesting aspects of people hidden within their spaces, balconies low or high, empty or full, flowered or barren, secrets hidden behind them, indoors the rage or despair, happiness or sadness, drunkenness, doped or medicated for survival. The young and old alike have a view of city days and nights. Weather prevails their decisions to traverse, I’ve seen them with umbrellas sitting out in the rain to get their puff and saturate their addictive lungs, I see them coughing, spitting, yet taking that drag with enjoyment. Addicts we all are to a degree, those sufferers of fate. Yet the balcony draws us out whether clothed or naked, I’ve seen them dance in the moonlight, lovers embraced, with reckless abandonment, not caring who is viewing from afar. Lovers are most daring, locked in each others arms, penetrating regardless of day or night. Sexual pleasures hold no bars from within, outdoor romance is most pleasurable indeed.
The pigeons, hawks and even Ravens compete for air space as they circle about these cages of high-rise sanctuaries. A bird’s-eye view with grace they float, dive and flutter in the air surrounding humans. All the while, knowing, that they are safe keeping their distance away from the perch of balcony railings. I’ve seen a pigeon caught by a tenant, I supposed he felt a desire for a featherless stew. He shamed himself, a kill in hand, then quickly ran back into his four-walled prison.
A balcony is a get-away from the space within, it offers a temporary haven of sorts, the staleness of being cloistered inside four walls, a new breath of fresh air, a breeze from a Spring or Summer day, a caress of the moonlight on their cheek or even a dance naked in the pouring rain, loneliness creeps over their souls, drawing them outside for a spell, releasing them from fears of possible claustrophobia or any other type of phobia.
I’ve seen through binoculars tears falling from their faces and wondered why, who, what is causing them to flow? I see them with a phone to their ear, or in deep thought with elbows on railings, what is going through their minds I’ve wondered? These concrete prisons we live in, offer us independence of course, the freedom to meet others or be reclusive and private. There are so many types in every naked city, thousands dwell behind these invisible concrete jungles, each with their own story. I’ve seen many souls young and old come out from within to shed their feelings from their balcony on high, all vanities shed, they are simply alone, nobody knows why they come out, but I sense, it’s never only for the view, sometimes it’s to end it all.