When I lived in our old town, there were a couple of out-of-the-way streets that I would find myself driving on when I had a few minutes before picking my daughter up from school or when it was a beautiful day out and I wanted to take advantage of the light to take a few photos or even when it was a rainy day and a feeling of melancholy came over me which has been known to happen on rainy days. Always, the reason I was drawn to these streets was because of a particular house or two (or more) that I had fallen in love with.
In our new town it's no different. I've already found a street that has two of my favorites. I want to knock on their doors with coffee in hand and sit down at their table and chat with them like we've known each other forever.
I secretly hope that little old people live in these houses. That is how I picture them to be. I'd love to see what they're reading and what kind of perfume they wear. I'd love to look in their linen closet and smell what they're cooking. Most of all, I'd love to listen to their words of wisdom and stories of days gone by. I'll definitely let you know if this ever happens. I'm thinking positively. : )