Natural light was never a priority when I was apartment-hunting in NYC. Safe area? Check. Not my grandparents' attic in Queens? Check. Across the street from a bagel shop? Check. I also demanded laundry en suite, exposed brick and a fire escape where I could grow my now-nonexistent basil, but received none of that. Such is New York, having a budget in New York, and—most significantly—having no idea what really matters.
Now, my bedroom window looks into an enclosed alley ("courtyard" is too generous) full of cigarette butts and burnt-out joints. Pigeons make love on my windowsill. The view from my window? A shot of my AC unit, which is covered in a gruesome mix of feathers (apparently, the aforementioned pigeons are adventurous) and bird poo. It is neither pleasant nor charming. And, because I'm in a first-floor apartment, there is minimal natural light. Occasionally, I get slats of unenthused grey shadows, but sunshine? Never.
What are your priorities for a house or apartment and/or what was your first grown-up apartment like? Ever experience fecund poultry? No? Are you counting your blessings right now? (Yes, yes you are).
[photo cred here and here]