Window on the World
by Wendy Burwell
When I sit in my living room I easily see and hear so much
of what goes on in my richly textured urban neighborhood thru my window and
sometimes I see more than I’d like. In
direct sightline from my chair are 2 young women and their dogs. They have lived in the bottom half of the
white trimmed sea-green duplex across the street for several years now.
They may or may not be a couple, I don’t know that it
matters. I do know that one of them has dyed her hair several very interesting
shades of purplish red indicating that at some level she may be comfortable
with standing out in a crowd. And she is
the one that has at times pulled my attention out of my living room.
When I first noticed them, they had one dog who they never
took for a walk but instead these young women would open their front door, clip
the Labrador pup to the 10 foot lead attached to the front porch and go back
inside. This offers only the driveway
for relief and the rambunctious pup was often left out there no matter the time
or weather. It’s hard to know how they
could miss its late-night continuous loud whining and yipping demands to get
back in when the neighbors were all too painfully aware.
At some point, torturing one was not enough – so now they
have two. The second one, a smaller breed, was also very young when it was
first brought into their strange menagerie. Apparently they also have a very
large, very loud parrot in their apartment- which can’t be seen, but I have
heard about from the neighbors who live above them.
Now the two canines take turns with this dance that includes
the front porch and the driveway complete with the whining and yipping of
course. And although there are now two distinct pitches, neither voice sings a
soothing tune.
And if all this weren’t entertaining enough, the woman with
the unique hair colors likes to come to their all-glass storm door leading to
the very visible front porch in nothing more than her birthday suit. There is no mistaking the human form in all
its glory so when friends ask me if I am sure this is what I’m seeing, I can
confirm without hesitation that yes indeed she does not seem to be bothered by
stepping onto the porch without a stitch of clothing on.
Having seen this multiple times, usually late in the morning
when I imagine the dogs can wait no longer to get to the driveway, has not
lessened its impact. And as comfortable
as I am with nudity, it is always a bit shocking every time I see her nakedness
in the context of our city environment.
Understand that I’m not watching for her to do this – its just what I
see out my window. And its hard to miss.
The most challenging time for me was when the little one was
first brought out to the porch by the naked lady and did not cooperate with –
or understand – the dance. The young woman had to concede that even she could
not step off the porch in her all-together.
So back into the house they went. She quickly reemerged carrying the pup
and wearing nothing but a tee shirt. Her
problem had yet to be solved however. She tried once or twice, but could not
bend over to put the dog down in the driveway without exposing her still
uncovered bottom to any and all. What she did next was hard to watch: she dropped
the puppy from waist level.
And at that point I had to go into another part of my house,
something I wished I had done earlier, just to unplug from this drama that was
not mine.
Wendy Burwell has lived in the South Wedge neighborhood
since moving to Rochester in 1987. She has witnessed its many changes and,
knowing that living in diversity is where she wants to be, is sometimes
challenged by what she sees.
