I walk to work with some frequency. Far less often, I walk home. Tonight, I walked home (albeit with a stop for a networking happy hour about half way through). Walking in the cool evening was lovely. The moon had not yet risen (or had already set…I can never quite remember whether the moon appears earlier or later as the month progresses). There were stars, and lights from the houses. It was not the bleary quiet of morning: more people were moving about, biking and walking and driving and talking.
The neighborhood felt different from the morning, yet not in the ways one might expect. It doesn’t feel dangerous or isolating. Rather, it feels more alive, if more contained. In the mornings, it often feels like I am walking through a world with few inhabitants, the sole human inhabitant. In the evening, I am the one cut off from the life within the houses and cars. Life is bustling around me, yet I am not quite a part of the life in which people are engaged.
I’m not sure I’d want to walk home every night (especially not if I leave work at 9:15, as I often do), but it is a different view of the neighborhood and life, and it good to see.