My Street

Our street is not a circle, not a straight line . . . it's a funny mix of loops and circles all called by the same name. When I walk it with the dogs lately I feel like it's 30 years ago and we're at some East Coast campsite somewhere. There are the bugs, the distant noise of a barking dog, the thick, old, tall trees and so much vibrant green everywhere. The houses are just far enough back from the road to lend a sort of private cabin feel to the place. Some of the houses are really big, but you can kind of squint your eyes and make them further away and more cabin like. The way in which the houses alternate -- left, right, left, right -- along the road instead of marching along in subdivision rows. Few of the houses are directly across the street from another. The yards are big, but not wealthy subdivision big. Just divided-up-70 years ago big.