The Empty Neighborhood

One day, a few months ago, my daughter and I were out and made a wrong turn. In the process of getting back on track, we ended up in one of those new housing developements. You know the ones, they have houses that all look alike, like they were made of cookie cutters.

This developement was strange, it was devoid of people, there were no visible cars, there were no signs of life at all. Especially missing were the evidence of the presense of children.

The lawns were all perfectly manicured, the landscaping perfect. The houses all had lovely decorations on the doors and curtains in the windows. It was like a beautiful showroom.

There were no noises, other than the sound of our van. A strange hush on that part of the planet. Rather than being like the lovely quietness of a forest, or meadow, it was unpleasant and unattractive. I felt like I had crossed into another dimension, like something out of The Twilght Zone.

I am certain, during the time of day we happened to find ourselves in the neighborhood, all the owners were away, hard at work, earning money to pay for their manicured piece of dirt. Working so hard, in fact, that they did not have the time to really live in those houses. No time for children, even if they had the desire for them.

I remember feeling relief when I finally found my way out of that neighborhood.

When I pulled into my driveway I was greeted by the usual sight of worn out, patchy looking grass, the ugly sand turtle, and bikes, that were left haphazardly, as my children ran to the van to greet me.
While others may like those quiet, neat, perfect houses in that other neighborhood, I'll take my old house full of children to love.