When Steve Krongard and Jodi Buren moved from New York City to Park City back in 2020, they couldn’t help but notice their new neighbors. It wasn’t that they were spying on them per se, but being renowned professional photographers, they couldn’t resist watching them — and taking pictures. Not in a nosy, Mrs. Kravitz kind of way, but with a “Wow, look at that!” wonder reserved for only the most captivating beings.Living on the edge of Swaner Preserve, Steve and Jodi’s neighbors are the Cranes — the sandhill cranes, that is, who inhabit the preserve. They began photographing the majestic birds and the landscape they call home. Their images and handwritten love letters to the cranes are part of an interactive exhibit I visited recently at the Swaner Ecocenter called “Beauty and the Beaks.”In a world that can often feel disconnected and lonely, Steve and Jodi’s work reminds us of the magic that’s possible when we take the time to truly engage with our neighbors. And that was just one of the stories of magical connection I found that night. My friend Kathy Bochnowski had invited me to attend the event, along with three other friends of hers I hadn’t met before. The four of them regularly meet for dinner and conversation. Kathy is a genuine connector, one of those people with a rare gift for bringing people together, the neighbor we all wished we had.On that night, Kathy had brought me together with Elke, Fiora and Anita. All three of them are long-time Parkites, all living on their own, all incredibly interesting women with rich lives — and all old enough to be Kathy’s and my mothers. Being with them that night made me feel a little closer to my own mother, well into her 80s, who lives 2,000 miles away and who also continues to be fabulously unstoppable and fiercely independent.After the Swaner event, we had dinner at Hearth and Hill. Kathy and I listened as Elke, Fiora and Anita swapped stories about how they each came to be in Park City. Elke and Fiora are from Germany and Italy, respectively, and speak perfect English in their native accents. Both came to America as young women to live the dream, raising their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren here.At dinner, Elke reminisced about being a little girl in war-torn Germany. “It was all I knew at the time,” she said. I’d already sensed she was a tough cookie, and a funny one. As we were walking to the restaurant, I’d offered to give her my arm. She declined, saying she’d rather have my lungs.Fiora told us about growing up in Tuscany and how she loves to remember her life in Italy through her cooking. We all decided that our next gathering would be at Fiora’s house.Anita moved to Old Town in 1981 with her late husband, Bruce, the national alpine program director for the U.S. ski team. An entrepreneur at heart, she had a shop on Main Street, wrote children’s books, shot music videos and was a designer and illustrator, among other pursuits. Today, she continues her career as a fine-art photographer.With long, silver hair and glowing skin, Anita looks more 61 than 81. Like Elke and Fiora, she radiates strength and self-sufficiency. Still, living alone presents its own challenges for all of us.One Saturday morning last year, Anita had a bad fall on her front steps. “I knew instantly my ankle was broken,” she said. “The cars were zooming past on Marsac Avenue and I was screaming as loud as I could and waving my arms for help. No one saw me or stopped. I was scared to death.”Finally, after an hour or so, shivering and in shock, she managed to drag herself just inside her screen door.  She was feeling like she was about to pass out when a young guy who happened to be riding by on a bike heard her cries for help. Anita said he came in and immediately comforted her, saying, “I’ve got you. You’re going to be OK.”Since then, Anita has healed — and she’s become friends with the cyclist, a guy named Billy who works for Park City’s trails department. He still periodically checks in on her. And he’s not the only one.Shortly after her accident, Anita posted about the experience on the NextDoor app. All she wanted was for people to slow down, to pay more attention to their surroundings, to think about their neighbors. She was amazed when more than 50 of them responded with kind messages and offers to help.“I made lots of new friends,” she says. “People brought me food, got my mail, took me to physical therapy. The secretary from my church at St. Mary’s vacuumed for me once a week. My guitar teacher came and played guitar for me, one man even offered to take me for a helicopter ride over town,” she said. And like a good neighbor, Park City was there.Being a good neighbor has benefits that stand the test of time. It might even prevent us from our own undoing. Take it from the cranes. Turns out the sandhill cranes are one of the most enduring species on the planet, with fossils dating back some two million years. Some scientists speculate they’ve been here even longer — more like six million years.As Steve and Jodi wrote in their exhibit, “When I see the cranes walking through the preserve, I imagine a prehistoric time. I think of pterodactyls and dinosaurs traveling in a world long gone. It makes me feel connected to the cranes, the preserve, the passage of time and our planet.”We can all only hope for the same when we connect with our neighbors.The post Betty Diaries: Like a good neighbor appeared first on Park Record.