A lot of people are at home

The other day, I was trimming a couple of branches that had been taken over by tent caterpillars. To do so, I had walk along the stone wall in front of our house. All of my steps were careful except for the last one. So, I've been hobbled by a mild sprained ankle which has slowed me to the same pace as Marley when we're on our three-mile walk.
In an informal survey, I noticed that slightly more than half of the homes we passed had at least one car in the driveway, this during the mid-morning on a workday. It's interesting to think that, even during these hectic times, there's someone likely at home at your neighbors' houses. There are few people in their yards, even on a delightful, late summer's day. Most houses also have the curtains drawn, at least in the street-facing windows. (He says, writing from his upstairs room where the shades are drawn to keep the room cool.) Ah, well. Suburbia is what it is. People are at home and yet ambulances can come and go from a neighbor's house and we would know what or why.
What we do know is that, because it's late summer, some yards are full to overflowing with all kinds of growth. In one stretch of sidewalk, you'd barely know that there was a sidewalk:

Naturally, an old dog will notice some very compelling smell deep in the thicket and will anchor his nose on that spot until he's inhaling dirt. Come winter, all of that will fall back and we'll have an open sidewalk once again.