In which, I accidentally found what I was looking for.

I like to look out the east window of my sunroom. Or when I’m out on the deck, I like looking eastward.

When I was a day dreaming child, little European towns made me swoon. Before constant access to internet, my exposure to these towns was PBS shows like Mr Bean, Fawlty Towers, The Vicar of Dibley, Waiting for God, Red Dwarf and Are You Being Served?
What sticks out the most to me are the perfect rows of homes where their peaks lined up, spaced apart perfectly, when you looked down a street. All homes looked very similar, but each resident has added their own touch to their plot of land. Their front and back gardens lush green. The streets made of cobblestone.
Somehow the air and the light, the atmosphere of these street views was always lovely, warming, and perfect - that is to say - lovely and perfect for a gray, misty, temperate European day. I was in love with it.

I’m older now, and I still hold the images of the places I never got to live in my mind. But somehow I found it where I currently live. I like looking east because among the many trees, I’m looking at a perfect row of garages. The peaks are spaced apart perfectly, each also separated by a wood fence. They look similar, but each resident has added their own touch. I’ve seen it everyday for nearly three years which means I’ve seen it in all weather and every part of each day. It’s the most beautiful during sunrise or sunset, where the pastels enhance the shit out of it. It’s lovely and perfect and I am in love with it.