It's a breezy morning, my husband and I went walking through Old Town, shutter fly telling stories. I walk up to an older man heaving lumber into his truck bed.
"May I take a picture of your barn?" Approaching with pride he answers, "Absolutely, take any picture you would like." He then extends his hand and begins to tell the story of his civil war era home. He knew the name of the family who owned the house in the 1800's and how they were bean farmers. We talked for awhile, thanked him, and walked on.
Being here makes me feel like the world is small
and life can slow to a comfortable pace.
You can talk to a stranger and shake hands.
Front porches and tree swings.
Church cemetery where those who fought for what they thought was right now lay.
Maybe this is not what the real world is like, but I like to think it is.
Your pictures are lovely. Someday I'd love to live in an old house filled with memories and stories.
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