September 23, 2015

Spotted on a walk in my neighborhood. I do wonder what these rolling hills on the outskirts of town looked like before then, before they became part of the exodus from the city in the 1920s and 30s, made possible by cars, made necessary by a quest for fresh air. Still the birds sing loudly in my yard and the semblance of country remains, but only until I walk to the end of my block, to the traffic light, the shops and gas stations, the realization that this calm place is merely an oasis in the midst of urban sprawl.