Little Red-Haired Girl was limping again today, so I took her for a short walk, returned her home and went on.
Our little town has a history steeped in the railway that travels along the main drag. Several years ago, a local group arranged the funding to plant these evergreen, I'm told, white pines. They are so hardy. I don't think a single one has been lost and they just grow and grow, rather rapidly. I think they look so nice running all along the rails.
There is an old motor inn that is terribly dilapidated; but these shingles have a patina that is rustic and endearing.
This lone shoe was just laying there as if it came off of the person while they were running away from something. A whole story subsequently runs through my mind.
Wonder how the person managed to leave just one behind?
We're just a little dilapidated town, but I feel very lucky to live where there are blue skies, wide open spaces and a true sense of community. You can't go anywhere where there isn't somebody you know. Neighbors stop as they are walking or driving by..."What 'cha doin'?" Everybody knows everybody and there is a true sense of security in that. It's very comforting. No borders. Just eyes and friends.