A high, dark brown fence separates us. It was there when we moved in. Sometimes we defy its existence by conversing with the children who speak both languages. Our daughter, Tamara, stands at the top of the play fort so she can see them. I wonder what kind of a relationship we would have with them if the fence weren't there.
Later in the afternoon, drawn out by the sun, we met the neighbors from the basement suite across the street—a single, stay-at-home mother and her five-year-old daughter. Thankfully, we're not separated by a fence. We exchanged pleasantries and when they left to quickly fetch something, an orange monarch butterfly silently and majestically flapped into view. Immediately, joy welled up within me and I said, "Tamara, look!" We watched it flit and glide into the distance and when the mother with her child returned, I said it would be great to hang out and let our children play together. Her daughter ended up staying at our place for dinner and I'm glad Tamara has a new playmate.