Maple Street
Where we learnt to ride our bikes.
Summer evenings
Nobody was allowed in until the street lights came on. The neighbour's front step was home base, and the ice-cream truck was the only clock we needed.
1988
The new neighbours
A moving van, three kids on the kerb and a man in a flat cap at the next gate who brought biscuits.
1990
Training wheels off
Dad ran behind me down the whole street. He let go when I was not looking.
1993
Chalk on the front step
Hopscotch, a bucket for a goal and drawings the rain always washed away.
1997
Washing day
Every back garden had a line of sheets, and the best hiding place was behind them.
1999
The last summer
We stayed out until the lights came on, one more time.
Five more minutes!
Dear Maple Street,
Thank you for the cracks in the pavement we named after our friends, for the porch lights that told us it was time, and for the one voice that always knew where we were.
The tree on the corner is bigger now. So are we.
All of us
27 years, 68 days
since the last summer evening out there
237
days until the summer street party
3 July 2027