Beauty in the Backyard (Holly Schindler)

My old, quiet, tree-lined neighborhood is full of quite a few Airbnbs these days, which I think is kind of wild. I've bumped into all sorts of renters while walking my dog Gus. They have cameras and they marvel at the scenery and they tell me how nice it must be that I live where I do. 

It's an odd feeling. 

I mean, it's just my neighborhood. The same I rode bikes through as a little girl. The trees these visitors find so magical are the same I sat under to study for my college finals. It's the every-day. It's the scene that's greeted me every morning when I get up and when I come home in the evening. 

And yet...

It's someone else's remarkable daybreak. It's a color they've never seen before. It's a breath of fresh air. 

It reminds me, every single time I meet a renter, that my own backyard is not unremarkable. 

There's beauty in the every day. And it's a shame that the day-in day-out often dulls that beauty. 

But it's nice to be reminded. 

What's usually at my side in my backyard--my dog Gus.