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| picturesque chez Kincaid |
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| a community hall for a real community |
Like a hearty wave from a neighbour on the highway (because in the country one does not pass another human, known or unknown, without acknowledging her presence, how rude would that be?) I read my friend Katherine's blogpost tonight about the saving grace of small communities, especially those with whom one had early acquaintance.
By way of returning the wave, here are some views of the village to calm the city heart, and make looking forward to the weekend that little bit sweeter.
I only wish that the photos, like the village, looked a bit more like spring. A bit of forsythia, would it be too much to ask?
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| neighbourly |
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| Kayaks? Surely not. |
Happy almost weekend at the Manse, folks - and everywhere, everyone.
Oh, thank you, Lindi! For the photo/blog/internet version of the wave from the highway, and for your nice photos of my very favourite little village. It's neat that you mentioned that wave thing, actually: isn't that one of the nicest things about living in a small place, the way everyone raises a hand (or at least a finger or two) from the steering wheel to acknowledge everyone they meet on the road? A charming tradition.
ReplyDeleteIf it weren't for that overwhelming desire to live in the heart of things so that I can walk to absolutely everything, I could be drawn back to the rural life. It calls in so many ways.
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