I was strolling along the streets of Kempton Park recently.
It’s a lovely, rapidly changing neighborhood: the old and the new often collide, but the endearingly shabby seems to live in surprising harmony with all things cutting edge (and pricy).
It’s also a mightily photogenic place. Which makes me a bit embarrassed to admit that my favorite sight was… a row of mailboxes:
I’m not sure what it was about them that I found so captivating. Their effortless vintage-ness? The fact that the building’s residents cared enough to make them so… cute? Or maybe the promise of each family’s story, already hinted at by the empty stroller (and even by those cacti): just pick one box, and whole lives might pour out.
Ultimately, I saw these numbers — presented in the simplest, most predictable of sequences — as an invitation to wonder about people and the place they live in.
Numbers are all around us at home and on the street, in airports and supermarkets, on signs and on our clothes. I can’t wait to show my children my neighborhood. – be proud of your hood !!