Tonight I went for a brisk walk through a residential area near where I live. I never have explored this area on foot as it's much easier to drive the streets and walk the dirt footpaths that meander past the back yards of this area. The foot path gates lock at dusk, so not wanting to get "locked in" I took the less traveled way of walking the sidewalks.
As I rapidly pushed my legs to a quick-walk pace, I felt oddly at peace with myself. I looked down at the cut cement squares as they came and went underneath me. I noticed the manicured lawns and trimmed edges set in contrast of dark green and off white and my mind wandered back to a simpler time.
I grew up in a neighborhood where Jacaranda trees flourished and grew unrestricted to seemingly hold hands with each other creating a blueish-purple canopy over the street. The smell of the flowers would cause me to inhale deeply as the sound of "popping" came from others that were crushed under my feet. The air would be cool and gently blowing my hair into wisps that floated around my head and into my eyes. The streetlights would gently rise in brightness as the beginnings of shadows lengthened into darkness. It was fall, my favorite time of the year. Even today, the autumn shift can propel me back in time to a place long, long ago, where possibilities, dreams, and hope lived.