I step out to the summer evening, surprisingly cool for the recent weather. The sun is setting, casting a ray of pink over the mountains in the distance. I walk aimlessly, just hoping to avoid the new house, not wanting to think of the move. I’m staring at the ground not caring much about the new neighborhood. It’s just houses and people. It’s the same as the old neighborhood, just different people and different houses.
I round the curb. From this angle you can clearly see the mountains and the hills nearby. I stop.
The setting sun illuminates the hills, turning the brown landscape a unique red. It’s mesmerizing. It’s as though the rays are shedding a spotlight on it, a tinted one. The ground looks alienlike, its the same shade of red as Mars. I’ve seen those hills a thousand times but never before in this light. I ponder at why its so different. My old neighborhood is a 5 minute drive from here. How can it be so different from a couple miles away?
As I let the idea settle I truly look around my new neighborhood.
Each house is identical to the other. If I drove past them I wouldn’t think much of them. But on a slow walk, I can see everything. The color palette varies from a light brown to a vibrant green, a fiery red clashes with a baby blue. The houses are all the same. But scattered here and there are the personalities of the beings that call them homes.
It’s the little things. It’s way the grass is cut and which flowers are growing on the lawns. It’s the way some houses have more green and others the dull brown. It’s the chairs on the front porch and the picket fences added in. It’s the picturesque houses that make me smile and the ones that make me wonder who lives inside those walls.
It’s the toys left on the sidewalks and the cars parked outside. It’s the dogs barking from the backyard or the cats stalking you from the fence. It’s the little bits and pieces of each person, a piece of their personality and their souls. The people living here worked to make their house a home.
I shouldn’t disregard this neighborhood. I should embrace it, the funky colors and winding roads I’ve yet to discover.
I straighten up and really look around. It’s different. The sky is fading into dark, and sun is setting. But tomorrow will be a new day, and tomorrow will bring a new light on the subject.