It’s National Night Out!

On the first Tuesday in August, Americans have permission to turn off the telly and go step outside and see who lives on their street and wave at them. It’s a chance too, to stop and be very thankful for a street where one can step outside for a stroll even at night.

In school neighborhoods, or for families with kiddos, people take it serious. They register their street in July with the local police, and the city puts that street on a map of goings-on, and then those neighbors can block off their street and put up sawhorse tables and signs and food and music and games and amusements.

Here at our apartment complex, we villagers figure any summer evening is a good reason for a night out. But things here were uncommonly peaceful tonight, so I headed out to the main street to see what-all the action was.

Action was only three blocks away. A circle of people were out in lawn chairs, looking cultured and wholesome. They sure have a nice garden too.

I crossed the street and strolled closer, tuning in to the energetic bubble around them. Fortunately there was a conversation piece right on the sidewalk — a stepladder, dressed in a frilly folk-dancey skirt. “Giant chrysanthemum?” I called over to them. “And does all this constitute a Night Out?”

For an under-imaginative intrusion like that, a default unmarked response could be a flick of handwave, if that. But not this bunch. No, they hollered at me to come right on over and get some refreshments, calling out the various menu options. Then we settled in and got all acquainted. They were quite a crack team at sociability, in both sharing and eliciting interesting questions and answers. In no time we worked out who lived where, who belonged with whom. We swapped household shopping tips about my fluorescent getup (state surplus warehouse $1 on clearance), and our hostess’s party lamp (a luminAID solar lantern. There is supposed to be a tiny superscript R in a circle after the brand name, but I couldn’t get the symbol to transfer in to WordPress).

Here’s a picture of another uninvited guest who came crashing in. “He’s clearly heading straight over to my garden to eat flowers, though he is moving real slow,” one neighbor observed. “Actually for a snail, he’s in a vast hurry,” I had to tell her. “Word is out, you’re growing tasty stuff.”

Pictured here for Angelina’s son Jaeger, who is all about nature denizens of this sort and might have taken the little guy home.

We settled in to a good talk about neighborhoods and community. I marveled at everyone’s very thoughtful planning and shopping for their social; they’d even printed up invitations and delivered them to houses all up and down our main road!

Then it was time to start packing up goodies for everyone to take home.

Wee sampler from a groaning board of tasties. I didn’t have the audacity to accept more.

Not pictured: ice chest of refreshments, hummus, a watermelon cubed in big tempting chunks, and more luscious vittles that people offered to hand over.

These are good neighbors to keep in touch with. They gave me thanks and hugs, just for being there! I promised to not write any personal details about them “except for the snail,” I called as they waved goodbye.