I have fascinating neighbors. Or at least a house on my block that captivates me, makes the curiosity about the family inside swell each time I walk up my block.
The house is a strange blue color that doesn’t quite fit with the muted palette of the block. But it’s not the stature of the place that’s peculiar. There are dead cars in the driveway, an old piece of leopard print piece of cloth half-serving as curtains in the front landing, and all sorts of lawn items that lie dormant, covered in spiderwebs on the front lawn. There’s clearly a pile of unsorted refuse that’s been there for years - colored plastic, discarded items that just keep climbing. The car that sits on the street outside of the house has the same effect; it’s a weird conglomeration of pillows, fabrics, toys, and other things that seem like they haven’t been touched in years seemingly growing from the seats.
While it’s totally strange from the outside, and I ask myself questions about it and its inhabitants everyday, what’s stranger is the side view. The path that runs perpendicular to our street is slightly more elevated than the street, which climbs a fairly steep hill, so there’s a view from above peering into their backyard. It’s stacked, littered…every single adjective you could possibly think of. It looks like a junkyard. And every time I start to pass by it, I always wish I had my camera and my telephoto lens to document it. Like I’m afraid it’ll go away. But every morning it’s there. And every evening it’s there.
And it’s amazing. And that’s it for tonight.
M
