Madness on the job which included a missed Zoom meeting. Still getting the hang of working remotely.

Yesterday the sun did come out in the afternoon, and I ventured onto the roof and strolled over to where it overlooks the back garden. All you can see from that part is the top of the sweet olive tree, but the air there is very fresh, and looking down at the green leaves with the white sprays of unopened buds is easy on the eyes. I heard a woman laughing. In the roof gazebo next door, I saw cushions pushed against one of its windows, long blonde hair, and the sun catching a glass of white wine held by a woman’s hand. Beyond that I could see a table set with hors d’oeuvres. The people next door were entertaining again.

Maybe it was because of Passover, maybe it was because of Easter, maybe it was just because, but by dusk it seemed to me every roof had people on it. Next door I made out about five people in the gazebo, standing, holding glasses, chatting. The roof next to that had a row of eight people sitting on its ledge with their backs to me, shoulders pressed against shoulders, perhaps watching for the sunset, and on the roof next to that, the one where the fellow keeps setting up the little black recorder, four people sat smoking something on a mat.

Michael stood at our window swearing at the lack of social distancing. If they’d looked in our direction, he might even have shaken his fist at them. “They’re young,” I said. “They’re enjoying themselves.”

“I know! Why do you think I’m so angry?”

Most of them cleared away after the sun went down, but the gazebo party went on and on. It wasn’t noisy, just trickle of sounds we’ve become unused to, people laughing, faint music… At 10:00 pm I looked out the window to see that they’d lit their fire-pit and three pretty women danced in a row, still holding their full wineglasses.