The other day it occurred to me that
I live on the sunny side of the street. But only literally.
Our house faces south. In the suburban wilds of California where I grew up, we had no need for the compass. Here in Colorado, I can north-south-east-west with the best of them (or at least with the median of them).
On the Front Range, our mountains are to the west. So “north” means “mountains on left.” Left, you know, the hand whose thumb and pointer finger make an L when you furtively splay them on the steering wheel.
Being south-facing takes on greater significance in Boulder, CO compared to Irvine, CA. The southern sun melts the snow on our driveway. Nature’s shovel.
Here’s another difference between Boulder and Irvine: house paint color. My neighborhood in Irvine had a palette of beige shades that one was allowed to paint one’s house. So I might be the only person in my current zip code who is happy to live across the street from an orange house.
I had acclimated to the orange. Kind of a southwestern vibe. But now there is a new accent color: a sunburst yellow garage door.
As garish as it is, I admire the attitude it represents. (Related posts here and here and here.) If the sun won’t come to the driveway, bring on the brightness another way. Go neighbor!
No thank you to a yellow garage door and eventually a blue house. Seriously?