June 18: Much of the enjoyment we take from where we live depends on our neighbours. I had the great privilege of living in a house for more than 25 years and was blessed by having (mostly) wonderful neighbours. I’ll admit that I was a bit concerned about moving into an environment where neighbours were certainly closer, and potentially much more disruptive. We all know stories about “the neighbour from hell” that caused people to move. And, in fact, there was a time in my life when I may have been that neighbour. I shared a cottage with my cousin. We were young and the cottage was, more often than not, a bit of a weekend party place. Noise travels across the water and although nobody ever complained, we probably intruded on someone’s tranquil weekend.
This post started as a bit of a rant about a neighbour across the street who seems to have an addiction to power tools. The weapon of choice seems to be a leaf blower deployed against snow in the winter, maple keys in the spring, and now the occasional leaf that trespasses on his lawn. Then there’s the electric mower which always seems to swing into action just as I sit down to dinner outside. But the crowning achievement came last week when the power washer was brought out. It was going for about an hour washing up a pair of plastic lawn chairs and a chaise longue. Then he put them at the curb for the garbage guys to pick up. Surely washing ones’ garbage should win some sort of environmental stewardship award.
Fortunately he seems to be the aberration. The immediate neighbours are quietly friendly and respectful. Some may become friends in time. The apartment complex feels like a community – a home, and spring has brought tangible proof 
of how people feel about living here. In spite of clauses in the lease prohibiting plants on balconies, many (including mine) are festooned with all manner of pots and vines and bird feeders. Some of the gardens that are part of the courtyards have been taken over, planted and are being tended by the tenant. One small lawn is a tomato patch, and I’m told that the tomatoes get shared around at the end of the season. The amateur sociologist in me says that people are “owning” their space and making it their home.
And then there are the rabbits. At first a large mature adult, and now smaller bunnies munching on the lawns first thing in the morning. The superintendent is aware of them and many of their dens, but prefers to leave them alone. So hopefully, they too have a place to call home. And the presence of fuzzy little bunnies can go a long way to offsetting the occasional noisy neighbour.