This morning the air was still and close, still the birds sang and the darkness was comfortable.
I take this walk every morning through my urban suburban neighborhood.
Each house is different, bungalows, farmhouses, colonials. Quirky, and since most are older each has evolved with it's own look and personality. Nothing like the new suburbs further out - so confusing with each house built the same with only slight differences in appearances.
The gardens around these houses too are vastly different
Some pristine and manicured, not a blade of grass higher than the other. Shrubbery controlled and pruned into exact shapes. Others overblown and lush, packed with blooming plants in numerous colors. A riot of color and smells. And here are the neglected yards, overgrown and weedy, a bit forlorn. A sad beauty in how the plants have take over. These lonely yards speak to me, feel familiar. I wonder if their keepers are just too busy to care for them, or don't care, or can't care. Maybe the neglect is a reflection of their spirits.
Each yard a refection of the spirit of the people who inhabit their space.
Photography & prose by Terry Rowe. Your visit & comments are appreciated.
You can see my art work or photographs at www.terryrowe.photography. Any photographs in my blog are also available for purchase.