I was just asked yesterday by a visiting tradie, as I have been many times by other visitors, you must get blasé about the view and not notice it anymore. My answer is always the same, never.
I had no real interest living in a high rise apartment until I opened the front door and saw the view out the lounge room windows. Ohhh, I like this, I can recall thinking.
Some eight or nine years later, I am still mesmerised by the views at times and spend quite a bit of time just looking out, noting changes, the waves on the bay, leaves browning and falling, green leaves appearing, building projects, traffic, trams, people, lights that come and go, illuminated advertising signs, weather, birds, distant views and I expect I could keep on adding. R is the same.
Yet some people take little notice of the view, often people who don't like heights. The only time I feel uncomfortable is if I look directly down below from the balcony, like with my head at ninety degree angle.
Our last house looked out onto our quite nice paved courtyard, but the other windows faced a paling fence topped but a neatly maintained potato creeper. My bedroom had a side window too, as well as one looking out to the street, but it was close to the street and so I had the blind nearly closed most of the time.
I suppose you can adjust to anything, but I might take quite some time for me to ever adjust to not having a big picture view. I don't have plans to not have a view.
And today out the windows? Warbling magpies, lots of people on the street, but being Melbourne Cup Day, they are different to the normal week day people. One of the Wilhelmsen container ships had just sailed. It is bright red, so very noticeable. It is a frequent visitor to Melbourne.
I am just back with betting slips and a newspaper and so I will sit down and stab at the form guide with a biro. We are then off to the Brighton Antique Dealer's annual Cup Day barbecue. I just rang work to find out I have Red Ruler in the work sweep. A group of people I have never seen before just exited our building in their race day finery. Lots of women in pretty hats passing by, lots of atrociously dressed men passing by. Stretch limos are heading up Toorak Road to the rich areas to collect their race passengers. The sun was out briefly. It may not be such a bad day.