We were out running the other day and I passed by this alley. I don’t usually stop while we’re out (only for the water fountains!), but this blue garage totally caught my eye. It’s easy to focus on the overgrown weeds, the cracked driving path, and the “forgotten about” buildings, but I can’t help but feel like I know this place… This alley reminds me a bit of my grandparents neighborhood in Indiana. Not because of how unkempt it is, but because it reminds me of the gardens my grandma cared for in her yard and the workshop my grandpa had at the back of their property.
And then my eyes shift upwards toward the poles and black wires, which are running for miles, just like me. There’s nothing in this photo that even whispers “city life”, and certainly nothing that makes me feel like I’m far from Indiana. Even so, I know I am.
All it took was a quick glance into this alley to stop my run, and since then I haven’t stopped thinking about the memories I have of my grandparents home. I’m so glad I made myself go back for a second look. But, I wish I could slip into the back door of their fence and tell them, hello — and then head inside to fill up on a big plate of homemade Mostaccioli :)
Isn’t it amazing how one little thing can bring back such strong memories? I heard a song the other day by none other than Dan Fogelberg, but my parents love him and I remember listening to his music on vacations at the lake we would visit every summer. I could almost smell the mountain air. I felt like I was right back there again. I hope you see some more blue garages! :)