Observation Paper

Front Porch

Sunday afternoon, what a beautiful time to sit outside. The shining sun, the light breeze blowing through the trees, and the warm September air were all begging me to come see for myself. I went out to enjoy the wonderful day, and not surprisingly, saw my neighbors were taking advantage of the great weekend as well. I sat on my porch and watched everything around me, the warm breeze, the rich summer smells, the gorgeous sky looking down at me, and my neighbors’ summer activities. We were all savoring this evening because it might be the last warm summery weekend left before the cold of the fall set in.

The people next door had their grill fired up. They appeared to be in their late thirties or early forties. The man had blond hair, and he wore sandals, a green and white horizontally striped polo shirt, and a pair of kaki shorts that showed slight fraying at the bottom. His wife had on white pants, sandals, and a pink shirt with a picture on it, and wore her brown hare in a ponytail. I watched him set up several chairs that did not match. Some were the older style of folding vinyl chairs, but he also had several of the newer collapsible style. The round grill he used had a shiny coat of black paint, and it was the type that burnt charcoal. The two chrome air vents located on the lid allowed wisps of black smoke to float out and away on the breeze. I could also smell the mouth-watering aroma of fried chicken and cooking steaks wafting from his grill towards me. The lady, meanwhile, swept off their deck. The broom she used created a quiet swishing sound with every stroke. The patio, made of rich red-colored cedar wood, accessed the house through two large glass sliding doors.

I heard a very high-pitched squeal coming from the brakes of a slowing vehicle on the street. The car, black with two doors, I guessed to be either a Sunfire or a Cavalier. It showed a trace of rust around the fenders, which seemed oddly out of place because it appeared in relatively good condition otherwise. The windows, tinted very dark, gave the appearance of being mirrors. The driver did not quite come to a complete stop at the four-way intersection which, I assume was because his brakes aggravated him as much as they did everyone else within earshot.

My neighbor’s son carefully mowed their lawn. The smell of freshly cut grass drifted across the street to me, reminding me of the first springtime cutting. He rode an old John Deer lawn-mower. I could tell the brand without actually being able to read the manufacturer’s name on the side, simply because of the recognizable yellow and green painting scheme. Every time the young boy would