I grew up in a cul-de-sac neighborhood surrounded by farmland and forests, with creeks and ponds to explore, and I loved that tucked-away feeling.
The neighborhood had one central spine with four smaller "rib" streets extending (mostly) west from it. Each rib street had about two dozen single-family homes on it, most with a good-sized yard. The main spine ended in a cul-de-sac too, and it had about 40 houses on it. So, maybe 150 houses in all.
The cul-de-sacs ended in large circles which became a gathering place for the neighborhood kids to play games like kick-the-can and whiffle ball. They were safe spaces because there was never a reason for anyone to drive into that neighborhood unless they lived there—because the entire thing was a dead end. It naturally kept outsiders out and reduced the traffic to the rare neighbor's car so that kids could ride bikes and do what kids do without getting run over or dodging traffic constantly.
I can't say a single bad thing about a modest cul-de-sac residential area. I loved the neighborhood I grew up in. It was darned near perfect, like something out of _Leave It to Beaver_. Our street had annual block parties, and all the adults were friendly, hung out together, and organized card clubs and the like. How good was it? Many of the kids who grew up there bought their parents' house, so many current residents are second and even third generation.
However, if it's the endless kind of sprawl depicted in horror flicks like _Poltergeist_ or _Vivarium_, or a cul-de-sac retail area, heck no.
I grew up in a cul-de-sac neighborhood surrounded by farmland and forests, with creeks and ponds to explore, and I loved that tucked-away feeling.
The neighborhood had one central spine with four smaller "rib" streets extending (mostly) west from it. Each rib street had about two dozen single-family homes on it, most with a good-sized yard. The main spine ended in a cul-de-sac too, and it had about 40 houses on it. So, maybe 150 houses in all.
The cul-de-sacs ended in large circles which became a gathering place for the neighborhood kids to play games like kick-the-can and whiffle ball. They were safe spaces because there was never a reason for anyone to drive into that neighborhood unless they lived there—because the entire thing was a dead end. It naturally kept outsiders out and reduced the traffic to the rare neighbor's car so that kids could ride bikes and do what kids do without getting run over or dodging traffic constantly.
I can't say a single bad thing about a modest cul-de-sac residential area. I loved the neighborhood I grew up in. It was darned near perfect, like something out of _Leave It to Beaver_. Our street had annual block parties, and all the adults were friendly, hung out together, and organized card clubs and the like. How good was it? Many of the kids who grew up there bought their parents' house, so many current residents are second and even third generation.
However, if it's the endless kind of sprawl depicted in horror flicks like _Poltergeist_ or _Vivarium_, or a cul-de-sac retail area, heck no.