I've lived in this house for about 14 years, going on 15 soon, longer than I've lived in any house in my life. When I first moved in with The Husband, the front room of our house was his office/den area. Over the years it has slowly transformed into a library/sitting room. I've sat many times looking out the front windows of this room.
Our house sits directly across from a (dry) retention pond. Since we've lived here, the opposite side of the retention pond, which borders on another neighborhood, was guarded by a wooden privacy fence. It separated those individually built houses from this subdivision. The street on which those houses are placed dead ends at the drop off. This area used to be a citrus grove (back in the 80s) and the retention pond didn't exist then. Many of those houses did. The fence was unpainted and unstained, just an ugly, tilted, dark wood prefabricated fence.
The fence is gone today. It was there this morning, and this afternoon it is gone.
I've never seen the houses on that side of the fence before. I never walked across the weeds and grass to climb the other side, like I would have when I was 12 or 13. I can't recall even having driven on that little dead end street, which connects to the two lane road off the highway and winds around the little lakes into downtown Eustis.
I'm trying to explain why this has unsettled me so much. I don't feel bad about it. I'm not upset. I just have this new view I wasn't expecting, this new place outside my familiar window. I can see a driveway and cars I didn't know were there -- the fence hid them. I'll see the people when they have parties (I've heard them during Superbowl Sunday and New Year's Eve, yelling and laughing, but I've never seen them.)
I've been waiting to see something new outside my window for a while now. I just thought I would be in a new house when it happened.