At first glance, Summertime Court seems like a pretty homogeneous place: A set of about six or seven modest but attractive house plans for 32 houses up and down a cul de sac. However, because the planners had not taken down any more trees than necessary, each house looks quite distinct with its own variety of trees, whether just a few or a veritable forest. All have significant shade, yet each has its own special garden, however modest or elaborate. We have quite a bit of sun in the front, but we make up for it with a vengeance with our twelve trees in the back (and about a thousand baby trees that I have yet to pull up). My naïve belief that a yard without grass meant a yard without work has been rudely disturbed. Weeds and baby trees fill that empty space. My battle with acorns is not over.
When we pulled in two weeks ago, we noticed that our neighbors among them had a significant number of cars and trucks but also a full-sized tractor-trailer rig, a monster sized boat and oversized truck to pull it, and an RV. It appears that “real” people live here, people who love their vehicles, undoubtedly far more than we do. Our next-door neighbor is a long-haul independent trucker—a difficult occupation these days of high gas prices. That rig is in and out, here and not here. Across the street, the owners of the boat, RV and stretch truck, a retired couple, seem to spend an inordinate amount of time keeping said vehicles spotlessly cleaned. Right now all have disappeared, so I assume that they have taken them to a Michigan lake to enjoy some summer recreation. The traffic is far heavier than I’d have imagined for being at the end circle. Many big wheels, skate boards, scooters and bikes have also made their appearances now that school is out. I love hearing the voices of children playing; I’ll have that all year long because only a fence separates our back yard from a day care center.
The other factor that we quickly noticed and rejoiced in is the multi-ethnic quality of our neighborhood. The truck driver is a (divorced with two kids who were the first to greet us) Vietnamese fellow. Many African-Americans live on the cul de sac. The neighbor on the other side is a single white working mom (I’d guess in her early 30s) who has fostered about 11 young children and has adopted one of them. She has two little girls at home now who scream with glee in the sprinker and take turns (sort of) on the tiny trike. She was still mourning the loss of the folk from whom we had bought our house, a Guatemalan couple, because she is passionate about multi-ethnicity and racial reconciliation. She goes to the GR CRC church that represents those passions best. The retired Dutch couple fits ethnic stereotypes the best: not only do the boat and RV come in for their daily dose of scrubbing, she sweeps the driveway and sidewalk every day to remove any traces of lawn debris (how Kentwood disposes of such is the topic of another blog post). May I never be so bored as to be reduced to that, even if I have to keep it in the weekly schedule! Oh, and when we saw the street in the spring, the Ron Paul signs were in abundance. One still remains, but it has been joined by an Obama sign. We’re only ethnically diverse, but politically diverse as well. It should only be a matter of time until the candidates appear to enjoy Summertime Court as well.
