A local real estate agent explained to me that the challenge she had when selling properties on our cottage road was exactly that — selling cottages on a cottage road. I mean, who in their right mind prefers property with a municipal road running between their front lawn and their dock?

You have to experience it to believe me, but I wouldn’t give it up for the world. I mean, if it wasn’t for the action on our little road, how would we pass the time every morning while sipping coffee, or enjoying a gin and tonic at the end of the day? It’s guaranteed to be an improvement on television, and at its best, has all the elements of a book of short stories — the envy of a Steven Leacock or Stuart McLean.

At the risk of describing anyone who might be reading this, I present just a small sample of our daily viewing pleasure. (Disclaimer: I am NOT making this up. As someone once told me, “some scenes just write themselves).

First, among various vacation “athletes” who run, power walk or cycle by, there’s the daily jogger in search of a buddy. To motivate him on his morning run, his coaching app is set on full volume as he clips by, encouraging him with phrases like, “Just picture the fat cells you are burning.”

Other daily passerby’s include:

A stand up gentleman on the 4-wheel dirt bike who rides one way down the road standing up and returns 5 minutes later the other way —this time, sitting down. Yea, you figure it out.

Our octogenarian cyclist covered head to toe in gauzy bug apparel, riding a 3-wheel tricycle mostly pulled by her loyal husky (and often accompanied by a retired gym teacher friend, peddling his own tricycle, dogs bouncing in front of them both).

The quintessential city executive (assumption on my part) who walks up and back every morning with the birds chirping overhead, firmly attached on one ear to his cell phone, typically waving his arms wildly. My fear is that he’ll have a coronary on our front lawn from stress.

The one hand on the bike tennis player dressed in white and holding his racket in one hand while he steers (badly) with the other.

Mr. Outdoors completely incognito in his mosquito helmet and carrying a fly swatter —just in case one gets through.

Tractor guy in search of a lawn. Never seen him actually on a lawn, but there’s a lot of driving by involved, sometimes with beer.

Plus special appearances by: Boy on a pogo stick, a car driving backwards the full length of the road, a bride standing on the back of a pick-up truck in her dress and veil, a teenager disguised as a Rubik’s cube, various visitors carrying everything from watermelons and chairs to fancy cocktails in martini glasses; and so, so many variations of the silly walk that you want to haul out a mirror and check your own gate.

I guarantee, you couldn’t buy this kind of entertainment. I’ll keep watching —wait for my own short stories!