Sunday Paper

Strolling down Main Street in the village where I live, I noticed the little, unused building that sometimes houses antiques for sale had its windows covered with newspaper. Finding this interesting, I stopped to take a photo, and discovered the big Baptist church across the street had made the first page!

The story of the Anglican Church here is that it was constructed by a boat-builder in much the same manner as a sailing ship would be made. It has a Scandinavian look to it, don't you think?

This is a Baptist cemetery. Most of the headstones are dated from the early 1800's. I like how each has its own personality and attitude. Some even seem to have a head and shoulders.

Lupins grow wild in the ditches here. June is a wonderful month for wildflowers. And for humans, too, because of that. Unless you have allergies.

The red green and white, the horizontal and vertical lines, the weatherbeaten wood and various textures all caught my eye.


This view of the farm on the hill, complete with cows (you have to look REALLY closely but they are there), situated right on the main street of the village, always tempts me to capture it in a picture. But you have to be here to get the full effect. Meanwhile, I hope this little ramble will tide you over till your next, or first, visit. Come on down! (but call first)

There With Bells On

Two Sundays ago I was invited by my neighbours to attend the village's big Baptist Church recital of their bell-ringing groups. P. was out of town and, quite frankly, I had nothing better to do. It was an entertaining spectacle, to watch people with white gloves and various sized hand bells ring out hymns. They were solemn and concentrated and focused on their music sheets. There was singing by the congregation in between the ringing. The performance was only marginally marred by the frequent braying of a mentally-handicapped congregant and the exit of a whole pew of people once their sprog had performed his part in the children's percussion group. And there was no collection plate in sight.

PEI Skies

Seagull nests.


Petrified hay bales (it's the salt air that does it).


Out standing in his field.

Cross roadless.

Church yard garden.

Blogs can be like pictorial conversations. Someone over on someone else's blog said something about PEI and this reminded me of some images I've gathered from various trips to the Island.

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Just taking a little blogging breather from my fantastic voyage to the beautiful concrete jungle of NYC. Breathe along with me...big breath in...hold it, hold it... and sigh it out... aaaahhhh