JANE
I've looked out my windows for eleven years and watched piece after piece fall from the solar frame. Some hung on by rust alone but withstood a guy with a metal saw who tried for a day to cut them down. The buildings behind and to the left of the panels have grown by two illegal floors, one shut down and leaving hanging streamers of blue tape and open windows, the other legally required to demolish but still renting unimpeded.
The tragedy is that the flock of pigeons no longer wheel and swoop in to roost on the cross-bars, too many predators in the sky. One day last summer there were an unbelievable five hawks circling above, barely visible.
When that structure comes down I may have to leave, it's the last abstraction in my view.
