Flying Forks

There’s something curious about being one of two flats with a garden in a four-story apartment complex: You get all kinds of unexpected presents.

Whatever isn’t nailed to your upstairs neighbors’ balcony furniture will come sailing down with the first gust of wind. So far, there’s been plenty of the stuff you would expect: Napkins, empty chip bags, and the occasional coaster. But there were also a lot of surprises.

After coming back from vacation, I found what seemed like a playing card of some game with a joker face on it. There was also a cake fork. A mid-week highlight were the bubbles: A plastic, test tube–shaped container with soap bubble liquid, complete with its wand. My wife and I blew some bubbles, then kept it for whoever might want to collect it later.

Most of the time, we don’t witness objects appearing. We are dealing with, quite literally, only the fallout. This morning, however, a silvery item dropped past my window as I was sitting on the couch. “Oh,” I thought, “another present!” It was a small metal ladle, perhaps from a toy kitchen or actual barbecue equipment.

Whenever I make the rounds and collect the loose goods, trash is usually easily identifiable as trash. I throw it out right away. But sometimes I’m not so sure. An item might look like trash to me but be of value to whoever wished it were still on their balcony.

Or do they? That’s yet another mystery in each case: Did they merely fail to grab the object before it fell or actively throw it over the railing? A different motivation could hide behind each gift. Granted, the latter is most likely to happen with children, who “just want to see what happens,” but hey, you never know! Maybe someone broke up with their partner and needs to get rid of their favorite coasters ASAP.

The ladle was in that category, by the way. No, not the breakup. The “kids doing science experiments” one. The father just came by with his two boys to collect it. “How do we say, Mattias?” “Thank youuuuu.”

The rarest interactions are real-time donations. A few weeks back, one child tried to present my wife with some water. Unfortunately, instead of lowering down a bottle on a rope, she decided to pour it out straight from the glass. On the second attempt, my wife yelled up at her. I doubt we’ll get more water presents soon.

It’s easy for me to stomp around the garden with an annoyed face, grumbling to myself as I collect people’s litter. But not all of our airdrops are trash, and even some of those that are can still be interesting. It’s a blessing, really. An interactive garden.

You never know what you’re gonna get in this life—and even flying forks can be a gift.