At the corner of Larimer Avenue and Orphan Street is a meadow turning to forest, where the foundations of demolished homes are softened by ivy and moss. This spot is only twenty years into a quiet ruination, but it feels ancient. Wherever I step, in the low grass, dozens of tiny crickets spring out, noiselessly, pale-gray. I can't find them when I bend over to look. It's as if I am splashing through an invisible, mysteriously dry puddle.

I visit this corner for its particular emptiness. In steeply hilly Pittsburgh, nowhere else feels like this — it's flat, and I can see. I lived in flat cities most of my life and didn't realize, till I found this corner, how much I miss the sensation of being able to look far off and see a street narrow in the distance.

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Source: https://placesjournal.org/