Just a Small Town Girl

Here are a few sights from my weekend walks.

This is a brazen bunny that only moments before I took this picture was in my neighbor's garden enjoying a feast on the fresh produce.

(Brazen--I like that word. The definition of brazen is "Marked by flagrant and insolent audacity.")

Mushrooms (or maybe toadstools?) growing in another neighbor's yard.

It seems like there ought to be a leprechaun or a fairy sitting on one of these.

Oh wait, let me look closer. Is there something there?
Or maybe someone?

Oh yes, now I see him. There he is.

A tent is set up in the parking lot at the drug store. No the circus isn't in town. It's the Amish. They come and sell home grown farm produce from this tent during the summers here. This week they are advertising strawberries for sale.

This is the helicopter pad at the local hospital. Accident victims are sometimes brought here by helicopter. Also patients are sometimes transferred to here or from here via helicopter in certain emergency situations.

We live very close to the hospital, just a few short blocks away. The helicopters that come and go from here quite often fly right over our house. I say a prayer for them and for whoever is riding inside them whenever I hear them fly by.

You can see part of the addition being built on to the hospital in the back behind the helicopter pad. I took more pictures of progress on the hospital construction and will post them another time.

I often see this elderly couple walking through the park when I am there. They are very sweet and always smile and say hello as they walk past. He is very tall and walks with his cane at his side. Black suspenders cross over his dress white shirt. She is quite petite and always very proper in a modest skirt and blouse, her hands clasped together behind her back as they walk.

I don't know their story, but they appear to have been together forever and seem very much in love.


I know the photo is blurry. Somehow that seems appropriate.

They seem timeless to me as if they should be from an old photograph you find in a drawer.

Or perhaps they should be the subjects of a peaceful painting.

The sun is going down. It is getting late. Time to go home. Even the trees are yawning and stretching.

On the way home, I see a group of teenage boys in the yard of one of the houses that I walk past. I hear a chorus of young male voices call out, "Hi Mom!"

No, they are not my sons, but they are the friends of my sons.

"Hi guys," I answer back to them.

One of them replies with, "You're awesome, Mrs. B!"

That makes me laugh. They are good kids. I'm glad to know them.