Letting It Sink In

I'm still just so in awe of the beauty of it here. The small-town everything. One Saturday morning, we went to the post office in the next village, and it was empty and this nice fella came out to sell me my one stamp that I needed. He noticed my Netflix envelope I was going to take outside. "Here, I can take care of that for you." he offered. It's like that everywhere here.

There's a general store I pass on one route to school that always has a sign out front advertising lobster rolls. There's this patch of landscape that I pass on the other route, rolling misty hills, green and layered, that always makes me think of reading "The Secret Garden" when I was little and I say to myself, "The Moor." (Type it into Google Images. That's what it looks like. The landscape, not the images of Othello.)


Further on, there's this boat ramp. One of these days I want to drive down it, to take a picture of the water I cross every day. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow, as we head out to errands and the good playground.