When you have a few dozen people—and more kids than you can count—socializing out on the pavement and chowing down on food made in kitchens on the block, you can’t help but think, "We hit the jackpot."
With the street blocked off, kids were clearly enjoying the fact that they could bike all over the place without worrying about passing cars. (They also clearly enjoyed the pinata bashing, which was a sight even for those of us who didn’t have a "horse in the race," so to speak.)
We got a chance to chat with our neighbors about how long they’ve lived on the street, and several said they actually moved to the block from within the town, they loved the neighborhood that much. Chris and I looked at each other with a semi-devious smile, as though we somehow got access to an exclusive club without realizing it.
We met dozens of new people, laughing together about ridiculous Halloween decorations, raving about the new Eden Gourmet down the road, and lamenting the economic downturn that’s affected so many of the New York City commuters in town. It wasn’t forced conversation, it was comfortable, even among those whose names I kept forgetting. (And those who will probably call me "Tess" for many months to come, thanks to the little girl who wrote my nametag with the "J" loop backwards. She was too cute to correct.)
Now, for the record, I’m an obsessive photographer. (I use the word "photographer" in the loosest possible way—I snap a lot of photos, but that doesn’t mean I’m skilled at it.) As I put on my fleece and grabbed the bowl of quinoa salad I was bringing to share, I hesitated for a moment when it came to throwing the Nikon over my shoulder. It’s usually attached to my side, but that’s when I’m going places where I know everyone.
Then it occurred to me: These are the people I’m going to run past every day. They’re the people whose children will join mine (someday, when we actually have them) on the short walk to elementary school and whom we will sit next to on the bleachers at Little League games. The munchkins drawing with sidewalk chalk will someday be the high school soccer stars, and we’ll hug them as they go off to college. The photos I took on Saturday will someday be revisited with comments such as "look at how little he was!" and "check out that haircut she was sporting back then." How could I not capture moments from our first introductions to this tight-knit, but very welcoming, group?
Saturday was just one of our first tastes of the life we have to look forward to in our new home. As Chris and I moseyed back over to our place, we talked about how loving your neighborhood is no small thing. Looking at real estate listings and getting tours through homes gave us a good sense for what we’d want in a house. But the neighbors—that would be a roll of the dice.
We got pretty lucky.