Neighbors

The blue tarps are gone.
One of the first things I do in the morning is pull back the blinds at the sliding doors in my living room. I love light. I need light, lots of it. I picked this particular second floor apartment because of its view to the west of sky and trees and geese flying pond to pond.
Of course, I also have a view of the building across the parking lot, identical to the one in which I live. So when I sit on my couch, I look through the sliding glass doors and the railing of my balconey to the windows and balconeys of the other apartments. I'm aware when lights are on or off, when shades are open or closed, when patio furniture is moved. To not notice, I would have to keep my blinds closed.
So, of course I noticed when the folks directly across from me covered their patio furniture with tarps on a cold day last fall when winter's first snow appeared likely in the weather forecasts. Bright blue glossy tarps tied down with ropes were an affront to the weathered wood of the railing and the natural grays and tans of the rock exterior of the building.
The tarps were also sensible protection against the wet and cold of the winter months. We have indeed had plenty of wet and cold the past few months. Weeks at a stretch when the thermometer barely budged above zero. Snow storms following snow storms with some helfty wind gusts thrown in for good measure. For almost two weeks, there has been a snow drift on my balconey that was more than 2 feet deep. The weather began to warm over the weekend, the sun was shining brightly, and by Tuesday, the snow had melted.
Wednesday the tarps were gone.
Today I noticed that my neighbor was gone.
At the top of the stairs in this end of the building is a small landing with just enough room for the doors to three apartments. When I came home this afternoon, hoses from a carpet cleaning truck snaked up the stairway through the open doorway of a now empty apartment. I have no idea when my neighbor moved out. Of course, I never knew his name, never had a conversation with him. Our paths rarely crossed. I couldn't help but hear his footsteps on the stairway that shares a wall with my living room. I never did figure out what kind of schedule he was keeping. Was he a student? Did he work shifts? Was he staying at his girlfriend's house part of the time? I did notice her coming and going a few times.
How did I not notice that he had moved out? After all, I work at home and spend most of my time here.
What a contrast to the way I moved in. Dozens of trips with a van full of boxes and furniture, augmented by a couple loads in a pickup and trailer.
Now, I wonder, will I notice when I have a neighbor?