Observation: Place 2

The small little walkway passes between two neighborhoods. It's called the "Plum Patch". Although i don't see any plums. Just rows and rows of houses that all look the same. Brown and big. They all have the same blueprints and it seems to normal to be normal. The road i walk on has been worn and i see the tracks of tires made by byciclists. Every now and then i kick a rock and listen to it skip across the dryness of the blacktop below me. To the one side of me there's a big sign that has been knocked over that says WELCOME TO......i can't read the rest because it's covered in weeds. The smallness of this path is only wide enough for maybe three people to walk shoulder to shoulder. I keep looking back and hoping that some byciclist won't run me over. It's a nice little place, secluded, and a place that i wouldn't feel comfortable in the dark, but it's nice in the daytime. There are new houses to my right that are being built. But they all look the same. They have no personality. Just plain, brown, bland. Bland. Bland. That's all this neighborhood is....bland. It almost takes away of the beauty of this little grove. I turn my head away from the plain houses and look at the wild weeds and flowers that give this pathway a little personality. But soon this little pathway will probably become somebody's backyard and nobody will be able to feel the beauty of this pathway again.