One of my favorite quarantine pastimes is walking around my neighborhood. Though I live in a rather plain 550-square-foot apartment, my little nook of Denver is comprised of red brick Tudors and bungalows built in the ’40s and ’50s. But I’ve noticed an increasing and troubling trend: these old structures are being torn down, with brand new homes popping up in their place.
These contemporary homes, defined by boxy shapes that make them look like artsy storage units, are bigger and flashier than the single-story homes that originally lined the streets. But they don’t elicit the same daydream-y feeling I get when strolling past an older house with a quaint porch and overlapping gables.