Turning for Home

I love our neighborhood. We walk here, bike here, go play at the park, talk to friends...whenever we head out on an adventure my soul lifts a little bit. We've lived here for almost 7 years and my feet know these streets well.

For all the fun we have when out and about, I always enjoy the last turn toward home. We were at the park the other evening and I got into a conversation with a neighbor who also happens to be the neighborhood historian (we live in an historic neighborhood). She said, "You live on such a pretty street. Everyone always asks me what 'that pretty street' is and I say, 'You must be talking about Carysbrook!' It's one of the best in the neighborhood."
She's right! It may be only two blocks long but something about the slight curve and the big beautiful trees each with their own character just make it special.

We almost always come home the same way (because we're almost always coming from the park) and we walk up a very long hill that's one continuous 'block' until we come to our street. Then we turn left, heading for home. Something in my heart just settles every time I make that turn - whether I've been out in the waning light of evening for some blessed alone time (and enjoying the peacefulness of the quiet street); or I've been breaking my back pushing a tiny, awkward bike in the hot sun with a whiny child in tow (thank goodness we're almost home!!); or we're meandering home as a family after a no-agenda evening (this is our place, our home). Every time we get to our intersection and stop to look before crossing, I look up the road for a moment and my heart feels the sweetness of home. The branches arch over the street, welcoming me in, beckoning me home, protecting what I love...
It's beautiful in every season and every mood - that last turn for home.