Growing up in a small town in Massachusetts was all I dreamed of and more. My neighborhood, although quaint, was lined with elegant houses, all holding something unique inside. The memories held on that pavement road will stick with me forever and the relationships I grew will last a lifetime.

Jay’s Lane; that was the name of my childhood street. I grew up here and spent most of my life playing tag and riding my bike up and down the sidewalks. As you turn on to my cul-de-sac neighborhood, there are tall, beautiful green trees lining the road, engulfing you in a sense of security. Making your way further down, you come across my house, long, green, with a stone pathway leading to a black front door. The driveway leads downhill to the garage, housing two cars and other automotives. There’s a creek that runs along the driveway where my brother and I used to catch toads and play in the water in the spring and summer. In the front yard, to the left of my house there is an enormous bright green tree; the most perfect climbing tree. The branches were placed almost as if it were made to be climbed upon. Past the climbing tree, there is a line of trees acting as a barrier between the house next door and my house. They are tall, Christmas tree-like trees that we would hide in from each other while playing a game such as “hide-and-go-seek.” Past the never ending territory fencing of trees, there stands my next-door neighbor’s house. The house is all brick, cold to the touch. It has black shutters encasing the long windows and a copper roof that has now turned a blackish-brown from the years of weathering. It has a half-moon driveway leading to an enchanting silver, almost medieval looking, front door. Standing on the step to the front door, right across the street is the most beautiful yellow house. Set back from the road, it gives you an even better look at how breathtaking this house is. The immaculate yard is bright green and done in perfect lines. The house itself is a light yellow, making it seem so inviting and safe. It is a square shape house with a trapezoid shape roof on top. It has no shutters protecting the windows, but does have a tall black front door with a beautiful flower wreath. Next door to the bright, inviting house is a dark, gloomy house that was a scary place to step foot in. It held a certain darkness that scared us all away and no one dared to mess with the house. The trees protecting the house made it always seem a lot more dark and scary to us kids. The front yard is engulfed in bushes and trees of all sorts, giving you no real way to see the house from the street. Through the forest of trees, there stands another green house, very similar to my own. It sits along the cul-de-sac at the end of my street. It is a square shape with an addition put on the right side to give it a longer look. There is a white fence sitting in front of the house, covered in vibrant flowers and evergreen bushes. The driveway is laid stone, making a mesmerizing pattern on the ground leading up to the garage holding two cars. Next to this beautiful home is an enormous house sat upon a hill. This house sits at the very end of the neighborhood, overlooking all of the other houses and acts almost as the “king of the hill”. It is a gorgeous tan color home with stone detailing of a front step and walkway. There is an island of flowers sitting in the front yard giving vibrant colors and a royal sense to the home. Upon the uphill driveway sat elegant cars driven by the people whom reside. Looking from the front step of this house you could see the whole neighborhood, putting in perspective how something so small can have such a strong, positive impact on someone's life.

With only five houses on my street, the people in them are what made it feel so great. Relationships made with the people you grow up with are relationships you never outgrow. You spend day after day, season after season playing, talking, and growing with these people. They make an impact on your life and how you act as a person. My close neighbors took care of me as a child, they fed me, they watched me when my parents couldn’t, and they all taught me different life lessons along the way. My tiny cul-de-sac neighborhood is engraved with our footprints from running after each other, our tire marks from riding our bikes, our tears from fights we would all get in, but most importantly, our laughter from all of the fun we had as kids.