Time traveler, by trade in anticlimatic

Drove a road today that exists in a number of different universes in my memory and imagination. People don’t steward things for very long, even though it seems eternal. What’s interesting is that knowing, and holding, the essence of multiple eras stacked on top of the same topological location grants particular insight into the distinction. Distills it into something workable. It’s remarkable how many things can change about a single street, despite it not changing much at all. There are many of the grand houses left, though hidden now under more remodels- but nature seems to have been pushed much further back now than it was. I remember the trunks of massive maple trees stretching into the heavens all around the neighborhood of the house I grew up. The older structures back then, that would not survive to now, were overrun with age and vines and rot and shrubbery. Tall grass and leafy greens seemed to spill out of every bend and crack in the neighborhood. Light had to fight to make it to the sidewalks we played on. Now, all is cut back and finely manicured by a fleet of dirty workers with their giant trailer blocking the road and loud leaf blowers slaughtering the morning.