Green, blithe Spring has arrived on our street.
Yes, you can tell from the precious new buds, blossoming trees, and shaggy lawns sprinkled with yellow-flowered weeds. And yes, the birds are back, cheerfully singing all day.
But the true telltale sign of Spring in our neighborhood is much in evidence....people are sprucing up their homes. It's as if the gentle air and clear, turquoise sky grants new energy to people to break their rain-inhibited hibernation. And they want uplifting, small change.
Ron has been repainting our garage. It was always shabby, and the record rain made it worse. Don next door is having the 60s-style popcorn ceiling in four rooms smoothed out. And Marty across the street is doing something that entails one of his adult sons, paint and carpentry. The 75ish man up the street who endlessly obsesses over his grass is...well, obsessing anew over his front lawn.
It has the peaceful lilt of a fresh season, done the usual, comforting way. All's right with the world on Heritage Avenue.
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