The Door to Nowhere

Originally published on April 21, 2006 (and check it – Denise’s first public comment!)

The Door to Nowhere

I like to imagine things about the people who live in the houses we walk past in the mornings. I like to look at things about their houses and try to guess why things are the way they are. I like to imagine what their lives must be like; what do they do for a living? How do they like their lives? What do they appreciate and what do they forget to see?

In the forums, I’ve talked a little bit lot about the neighborhood in which I walk (so much so that I think I’ve scared members away from the forums… oops…). I can’t help it! I just find something else to gawk over every day. Quick funny story: earlier this week I was driving home and decided to take a detour down one of my walking routes just to see if I would look at the houses in a different manner as a driver rather than a pedestrian; I found out that the streets were full of speed bumps. I had never noticed that, because when I’m walking the dog I’m not looking AT the street. Too funny!

Anyway. Moving on.

I like the dark purple house with pale yellow trim. The yard is covered with trees and the ground is covered with ferns, and the owners have carved out a pathway from the front around to the right and lined it with bricks. There’s a trellis in the far right back corner and I think it outlines a picnic area. The house is in darkness, yet it’s not foreboding. It’s like a magic mystery, hidden in shadow. I like to think that the people who live there love fairy tales.

I like the dark green house with dark red trim, and the trees planted all around it so that you have to really look to see the house. They have a wide brick stoop, and yesterday there was a black and white cat asleep, soaking in the morning sun. They have plants all around, both in pots and planted, and everything looks perfectly maintained. They have stained glass hanging in the windows and wind chimes on all the corners of their house. I like to think that the people who live there love plants and nature, and spend lots of time at Kanapaha Botanical Gardens.

I like the plain two-story house that looks as if it has been divided up into apartments. There are four garages downstairs, and two of the driveways have been meticulously landscaped and large “no parking here” signs put up on the garage doors. There’s a second story porch (screened in) that sticks out over one of the driveways not lined with plants. Yesterday there was a small dog barking outrageously from above us, and it drove Bridgett crazy that she couldn’t figure out where the yapping was coming from. I’ve seen the girl who owns that dog out walking sometimes, and she is one of the ones who doesn’t pick up the poo. I like to imagine that she is single-minded and driven, perhaps a law or architecture student, and that she is vaguely unhappy with her life but can’t put her finger on just why.

I like the two-story house across from the park, which faces a side street. I see the back of it as I’m walking up. There’s a door on the second story, and it opens up to nothing. The back yard is overgrown and cluttered, but not in a white trash way. In a “I’m busy but I’ll get to this when I can” way. Like mine, I guess. Logic tells me that the second story door to nowhere used to open up onto a back porch. Maybe what they call a “sleeping porch.” And I look at the back yard and wonder how big that porch could have possibly been, because the fence comes up to within feet of the back of the house. I like to think that previous owners, maybe the original owners, used to own the lot next door also. I also like to think that sometimes, maybe, someone inside the house opens up that back door and imagines what it must have been like in the past, to be able to step out onto a porch and look out over the park.

Enough of this; writing this as I have my morning pre-walk coffee has made my feet itch to get out walking. This is what my life is now: waking up, having coffee, taking the dog for a walk, working at home, working outside the home, coming back home and having dinner, and knitting.

Posted by Lorena on 04/21 at 07:30 AM in Personal,  Adventures in dog walking


I am amused that you’ve never noticed the speed bumps. Very amusing. I sooo wanted to buy the Pepper House last year…

Posted by Denise on April 21, 2006 at 02:32 PM | #

Denise, I can’t wait to get home and look through your website (I may have tried from work, you know, if I was at work and surfing the web, which of course I would deny doing… ahem). I am tickled by “flamingo house” and am now dying to know if you’re a Gainesvillian and if you are, if you by any chance live right around the corner from me– there’s a very cool house with oodles of flamingoes out front, and faaaabulous landscaping.

Also, there’s a house that’s pending for sale right now that I’m just in deep love with… This might be the link, but it may not be working any more.

Posted by Lorena on April 21, 2006 at 03:29 PM | #

I am in Gainesville – I do have flamingos in the yard but we don’t have beautiful landscaping, lol. We also don’t live in the Duck Pond area, we’re closer to the mall.

Your link was to a property in Chiefland… a wee bit of a drive but 200 acres would be nice. I don’t have 5 million though, darn it! I’m guessing that’s not the house you meant though…


Posted by Denise on April 21, 2006 at 03:45 PM | #

LOL- no; it was a house about a block from NE park… wood floors, small nook-ish porch, fireplace, did I mention the beautiful nook on one side with the lovely windows and french doors? Deep sigh!

Posted by Lorena on April 21, 2006 at 04:12 PM | #

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