My favorite streets downtown are the little ones in between bigger streets. What you see from their narrow sidewalks are the backs of houses facing each other. I call them secret paths because no one else ever seems to be there. They are usually laden with some bushy overgrown plants and are where everyone pulls their trash cans. When a city is so intent on looking pristine, it ends up being the forgotten parts that I fall in love with. There is no denying that a well manicured garden with a wrought iron fence is charming, but that isn’t where I want to spend all my time.
After living in Savannah for two years I think I am almost numb to the beauty that I first saw here. That may sound like a shame, but I actually love my town more now that I see where the real beauty lies. To those passing through it’s a fountain, a statue, a church steeple, a historic house full of antique furniture. To me it’s weeds growing through bricks, someone’s tiny grill set up under their front stoop, the sunset view from the alleys we pass on our way home, the pot holes I have to jump over when it rains. There are so many tiny details to see here that I think anyone who really loves this place must have their own list of reasons, and I love that.