Backyard privacy is a symptom of suburban living. I sit in the rocking chair as Max plays in the dirt and Bella swings feeling like someone, anyone, could watch me and I wouldn’t know it. It makes me want to plant bushes around the fence so no one can see in. This paranoia is faceless and I’m not sure I like it.
Then I think about it. I am exposed and it must seem delightful to my homebound elderly neighbors to see a woman interact with her children so freely. To look out their window and witness a woman telling her son a story and the excitement on his face as she weaves the words into another world. To see children so content and playful around their mother is a gift. I love watching people who seem happy, too.
So I’m torn and left fantasizing about living on a few acres of land where the only eyes on me is Nature’s.
Backyard privacy is a symptom of suburban living and the cure is to move out into the country.
I think I will have to plant some tall bushes.