Ivyland (Borough) is a small town in Bucks County, PA. The Borough itself is a historical place, with many of the homes over 100 years old and in very nice condition. There are tree lined streets with sidewalks flat with the street and no curbs. The speed limit is 25 everywhere, but there's barely any traffic. Most homes have slate roofs and some form of barn that is as old as the homes, complete with sliding doors and just the appropriate amount of wear and tear patina they deserve. The train runs through the edge of town, right where it goes from being a quaint little borough to a modern industrial park, complete with offices, traffic, noise and full parking lots.
As I am almost halfway through my last week of work at my current employer I went for a nice walk through the borough. The leaves crinkling underfoot, the smell of many variety of old trees and old houses wafting through the air set the scene. You'd never know you were a quarter mile from a very busy state road and three-quarters of a mile to a major, four lane, state road. It's very quiet, weirdly quiet.
I have walked through this little place many times in the past almost nine years, and it always feels the same. It feels like I have walked through a timewarp, I'm in a town that as a child I never stepped foot in but the feel and the air make me feel like I'm walking back in time, through a memory. For my childhood neighborhood had trees nearby with the same smells and leaves as this town. There were only new homes in my neighborhood, with the exception of a few, and those houses smelled just like this whole borough. The smell of the leaves I think is the part that directly drives me back to my elementary school days, the smell of fall always drives me back to that time period. I almost feel like no one is there, anywhere. It's as if nothing else existed outside of this small town and my walk through it.
I'd walk home from school a lot then, it feels a lot like my walks though Ivyland, which I think is why I feel so close to the place. It's so hard to explain the feeling, it feels like my childhood home but I know it isn't. Between the silence and the ever so random falling leaves, it feels like time has almost stopped. It always makes me think of so many things, life, where I am in it, adventure, home, family, holidays, being a kid, playing in a local park, being able to walk to a local store or your friends house without an ounce of concern about how far you were going because they were within four blocks. It makes me think of snow storms that would bury these homes and being inside them, warmed by a fire, the smell of an old home, looking out weathered windows. I feel holiday dinners, with all the tradition and fanfare, but none of the department store bullshit. Just family, food and a warm comfortable home filled with love.
I think it's the changing of the seasons that does this to me, it's just just where I am, it's the season in general. It's the bringing the end of a year, the end of a fruitful season filled with outside fun and sunshine. It's time to stock up the firewood, get out the blankets, build a fire and sit with loved ones in front of it while it crackles through the cold night.
I am very much looking forward to the cold nights ahead, nights spend cozy on the couch or bundled up outside watching the stars on a cold, crisp and quiet night.
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