The other day I had to stop off at the store for a few groceries and, like I always do, I drove out via the alleyway.
The store is on our main road in this part of town - we aren't downtown, so this wasn't an alley between tall buildings and, one street back from the store, there are houses.
I came out from behind the store onto the street, ready to turn right, when I looked straight ahead. The alleyways between the houses seemed to stretch out infinitely in front of me. I had to go seven blocks over, then two blocks to the right to get home.
"What the hell," I thought. "Forget the main road. I'm taking the alleyways."
And so, very slowly, I edged across the street and into the first alley.
Driving along the alleys gave me a completely different perspective on roads I drive every day. I noticed houses I'd never really looked at properly before, and saw them from the back - a very different view.
And the alleys themselves were like a little world of their own. There was:
- the artist sitting at an easel, painting, in her garage, her works hung all over the walls
- the garage painted bright yellow, with brown edging (different)
- the obviously well used basketball hoop
- the tree, so tall and so old that the roots had completely lifted the road like a mini-earthquake
- the guy doing DIY in his garage wearing funky eye protecting goggles
- the elderly lady bending over her flower beds, wearing gardening gloves and trowel in hand
- the messy trash cans, the neat and clean trash cans, the house that creates so much trash they had a mini-dumpster our back.
I felt, for the five minutes I drove home that way, like I had peeked through my neighbor's curtains and discovered a little bit more about them.
It was fascinating.