There are places where different eras overlap.
This is one of my favourite places in the whole city. Not because it's so beautiful but because it's disturbing in just the right way. It was once a garden colony and now it is a residential area with brick houses and playgrounds. What is weird, though, is that the shanties of the long gone garden owners are still there. They're wooden constructions with makeshift everything and with goofy mementoes from the times of their functioning. The flowerbeds are also still there, they look as though they were measured out with a ruler and they resemble untended graves. As all the seeds and bulbs stayed in the ground after the gardeners left, the backyards of the brick houses are teeming with flowers and the occasional strawberry plant. Not all the gardens are abandoned, either. Little squares of land between the blocks of flats are fenced off and cared for by really old ladies. And then there are the cats and trees with eyes.
The current residents don't seem to mind the previous era slowly disintegrating in their backyards. I know it would bother me. I'm uneasy around unfinished business, so I'd take down the shacks and dismantle the edges of the flowerbeds. There's something half-undone about those gardens. Like the past is still lingering in there along with notions of futility and marred efforts. I wonder what happened to the gardens and why they were there in the first place, since the houses are themselves quite old and they look as though they just landed there one day, fully built, without disturbing the vegetable patches.
Being there brings out all kinds of memories. The place does not as much attract me as makes me want to go somewhere else. To all these places the memories of which are crammed together in this sorry neighbourhood. The town where I spent my childhood and which had lots of these in-town gardens with primitive sheds just to sit in. There were huge colonies of them and most were tended to back then. The garden outside the city owned by my family. Absolutely nothing ever happened there, which allowed for the most absurd child fantasies and daydreams to develop. Other places, stuck in my head, especially those that I can never go back to because they just aren't there anymore or I have too vague an idea of where they were located. This neighbourhood frees the pieces of me lodged in these places and brings them up for further examination.