121 Comments

I felt my blood pressure slowly reset while reading your lovely essay. So easy to get caught up in phone based hysteria. So simple to let it all go if someone wise leads the way. ❤️

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These remembrances seem comforting to me. And familiar. In Nebraska I don't know if we have a name for that strip between the sidewalk and the curb. Sometimes we have boulevards. But this is not common. But the cicadas are common although my mother called the sound 'locusts' which I suppose is indicative of the time she grew up in the 1920's when there were indeed locusts making that cacophony. And yes, the trash cans do come out at night joining the noise. Even though if you get up early in the morning you can do it then. Of course some places like mine, you also hear the dumpster lids slamming..or not which leaves the day's trash available for the opossum and racoons. And probably not an occasional rat.

I didn't know that about lights and skunks. Wouldn't they eventually figure that out? I mean they have to be smart to navigate the sewers and streets only now and then not making it back to their babies. See, when you look at it that way you want to hope they come back the next night. Just keep your distance. And I do know morse code and could send the library of congress on a lightbulb if I had the time and wanted to. Of course 'day' to us is like 'day' to all the creatures of the night that when we get out of the way ply their many talents. So sleep well. And quite worrying about those CONs (creatures of the night).

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Grew up in Cleveland although I now live in Ohio. I call that space between sidewalk and street the tree lawn too but here people look at me like I have two heads. Maybe I should start calling it the devil strip!

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I’ve read countless pieces by you—all of them wonderful. This one is my all time favorite. I can’t explain it, but it touched me on so many levels. Perfection.

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I would love to know how to access the poems of Kathleen Burgy, particularly 'On the Edge of Eighty' which you cited in your piece tonight.

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The rolling of the garbage cans! We moved to Lakewood, Ohio (it will be 2 yrs in April) from a much quieter cul de sac in the south of CLE burbs, and I kinda love the noise. The trains, the church bells, the rolling of the cans.

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I’ve just been in Morelia Mexico, where our hostess described the garbage collection method: 2-3 times a week the garbage collectors ring bells, alerting the neighborhood that they are in the vicinity. People then bring the bags out, along with an envelope with money, which is tucked in under the bag. I love the idea of ringing the garbage bells! Also those direct payments!

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This made me smile. We just had dinner with friends from Akron who told us they called the tree lawn the devil strip. And then tried to explain why, which was even funnier.

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Best headline I've seen in years!

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There is so much to love about this specific column (although I Love them all). Just one "pearl": "...but I’m a Midwesterner and I was raised to explain myself." This Michigan to California transplant will never change that habit. I'm certain I was born with it and it's in the grain. By the way, in Santa Monica, CA (I'm not sure if this applies to Los Angeles, where I live) the strip of land between the sidewalk and street is called "the parkway." That is a pleasant term.

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Our Miss Marple (German Shepherd) refuses tutelage, kindly offered I'm sure, from local skunks. Last night was her second dousing in six months. We tell folks she's a very smart dog. Ha!

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Nice. Echoes of Thornton Wilder.

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Beautiful. Such a small fragment of time, yet sometimes those moments are filled with moments one wishes they could capture. Like you have. Thank you for sharing your moment. :)

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I now have a name for my evening ritual of filling the pellet stove and cleaning the little fire box of ashes: Evening Lisa being kind to Morning Lisa, especially now as it's getting below freezing at night and stepping outside to empty the ashes from the previous day is a chilling experience. Rituals (with names!) help to ground us for each new day.

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Hey, tomorrow is trash day in my neighborhood too! We call it the park strip, apparently.

I’m enjoying fall, even though here in Central California, it seems to only last a few weeks. We shall see.

Have a lovely Friday. Give those cute pups scritches for us.

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It’s a good song title, Connie. And, if I hadn’t already, stupidly, given my voice to the COPD gremlins, I’d volunteer to sing harmony.

Also, I call that strip between the sidewalk and the street the “WTF” strip. WHY would anyone plant grass that has to be tended to when there are plenty of choices for native ground cover that take less water and less mowing? Plus, sometimes you can get something sweet smelling like thyme, or something just pretty like sensitive mimosa (my favorite) to brighten up your daily walk.

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