Us In the Neighborhood

Now that’s it’s warm, we take our walks after the sun takes its bow at the edge of the yard and glides behind the trees that line Southern State Parkway. Parkways are so annoying. It used to be that no one took them—everyone wanted to be seen on the Expressway, which is so direct and Mussolini-ish. It was okay, because the Parkway could still breathe. Now the entire world rides on the Parkway and makes terrible noises with their cars. And even though there are leaves on the trees to absorb those noises in summer, it’s not enough to muffle them. So, between the hot sun and the cars, I think it’s better to hide out in the house where the hum of the air-conditioner lulls me to sleep.

But, in the evening, it’s breezy and sort of quiet. We walk around the block, and the kids say hello and ask Joan if they can pet me and ask why they can’t pet Shane.

Yesterday, an entire family of old and young people were sitting on their front-door steps—maybe three of four people on each of the five steps. They were all watching the three of us walk by, so Joan waved and, can you believe it, the entire family waved back. Fifteen or sixteen people raised their right arms and waved and smiled. Joan called out, “Hola” and they said it back. Then one of the men asked her if she would give me or Shane to him. She told him she loved us too much, but she’d let me kiss him if he wanted. They all laughed, and I felt as though I belonged to a very storybook kind of neighborhood.

Then we went home and lay on the cool grass.

Best wishes, Juno