Walk through the old neighborhood

[Some catch up posts coming because I was out of town and my computer couldn't get online. Sigh.]

11 August 2016: You know how there are places you remember in that deep part of your memory? Places that shaped who you are? And then you go back to those places and see those things you do remember, but also notice things you never noticed before? Having just that kind of experience was Thursday's good thing.

I drove up to NY on Thursday for my cousin's wedding on Friday. (More about that in a future post.) On Thursday evening, even though it was very hot and humid, I just felt the need for a walk. (Probably had something to do with the long car ride and a general restlessness that settles in whenever I am in NY.) So off I went, walking for a good hour all over my old neighborhood--including streets and areas I haven't really walked through in years and years.

So much was the same, but I could go on and on listing things I never really noticed or saw the same way before: streets that function like min-neighborhoods, some feeling like quiet little worlds; little bungalows that never stood out to me when I was a kid, but are so very charming now; how much pride people in Rocky Point take in their yards; how the houses that were "new" when I was a kid look faded and worn now, but the actual old houses still look the same.

When I got back to my parents' house, my dad asked if the old neighborhood was like I remember. How could I begin to answer him? Memory is too complex.