This is the door to my cottage in a small sea town in the Northwest. To reach it, you have to go over a bridge of sorts, as the house sits above street level. At night, the bridge is lighted from below! A grand entry for a modest cottage. Off this bridge, before you reach the street, you travel on pea gravel, watching your step lest you step on deer poop.
Deer roam freely, and often stop by this camellia bush for breakfast.
This picture was taken a while back, around Halloween. The pumpkins didn't invite people up to the house; the footbridge did, and does, every single day. And this cranberry door.
Just a few years ago I wouldn't have picked cranberry for my front door, a color that demands attention. I had doors that remained closed to the world. I didn't want anyone to case the place and return to rob my house.
There is a certain attitude about living in rural areas. Doors remain unlocked. Everyone's pet is known to everyone else. And people's stories are shared easily.
All last week, we had to be out of town on medical needs. People took turns visiting our cat, clearing the garbage bin, picking up papers, looking out for any intrusion. I didn't even had to ask!
Deer roam freely, and often stop by this camellia bush for breakfast.
This picture was taken a while back, around Halloween. The pumpkins didn't invite people up to the house; the footbridge did, and does, every single day. And this cranberry door.
Just a few years ago I wouldn't have picked cranberry for my front door, a color that demands attention. I had doors that remained closed to the world. I didn't want anyone to case the place and return to rob my house.
There is a certain attitude about living in rural areas. Doors remain unlocked. Everyone's pet is known to everyone else. And people's stories are shared easily.
All last week, we had to be out of town on medical needs. People took turns visiting our cat, clearing the garbage bin, picking up papers, looking out for any intrusion. I didn't even had to ask!
Oh...you make me long for simplicity and trust! I have memories of such a place...Ohio...childhood. Yet, even in the midst of Los Angeles, our little neighborhood is trying to create such a "sense of place!" Maybe????
ReplyDeleteyou can't beat good community, rosaria. i'm glad for where you are. (hope your medical needs were met alright))-
ReplyDeletexo
erin
What a wonderful place to live. I hope you are both ok. Take care.
ReplyDeleteI love your cranberry door! The whole description of your location sounds absolutely charming and welcoming. I grew up in the country where my parents never locked their door. My husband who grew up in London for much of his youth cannot get over his need to lock up even when we are in the French countryside and run into the village for a loaf of bread!
ReplyDeletelovely...I live in a small beach town, in a very small cottage..
ReplyDeleteYes, and if you've lived there long enough, they tell you stories about your own family...it has its comforts...I'm glad you are surrounded by such generosity. Beauty of spirit as well as of land/seascape!
ReplyDeleteI grew up in the country. Very few neighbors, deer would cross through the back on their way to the river. Trees to climb and sounds you learn to sleep too. Your cranberry door is fitting for living in a small town. It's nice to know others are there to help you out when you need them. Hope all is well.
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