It is mid-afternoon – post-lunch but safely before the schools let out – and I am walking the dog in the direction of what my wife and I now call the Triangle parks. The Triangle parks are the result of a long road cutting diagonally across the regular grid of suburban streets, leaving two small, three-sided communal gardens. They are close but hard to get to – a lot of roads round here come to unceremonious dead-ends – and it was only during my long lockdown walks that I eventually discovered a route to them.
Recently, however, they have proved useful: they’re both fenced and likely to be deserted mid-afternoon. When your dog is on heat, regular parks are out of the question.
