10 posts tagged “summer”
Each time I walk the historic tree lined paths of the Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill, the photographer in me takes over and my heart pounds with excitement. From the craftsmanship of the Shaker's furniture to the pegboard wrapped halls that tell their story, the village is an absolute dream to photograph.
This past Saturday we spent the day wandering through the village with Jon's family. This was the fifth time I've visited these historic buildings, yet I still found myself awestruck by the interior of the Shaker homes. The way the shadows and light play on every surface is stunning and I can't help but leave the village with a smile and a handful of favorite photographs.
Jon & I have the cabin alone for a few more days and I'm sure it will be strangely quiet without our company.
It's the first weekend of August and that means it is time for the 127 Corridor Sale. Whooho!
What started twenty years ago as a small scheme to pull a few travelers off the interstate onto old U.S. 127, using the irresistible lure of a bargain, has turned into the World's Longest Yard Sale. It stretches hundreds of miles from Kentucky to Alabama, spanning 3 sates with a total of 450 miles. The Highway is lined with antique dealers, car collectors, crafters, cooks, and more than 3,000 vendors, offering just about any collectible anyone could ever imagine.
Guess what lucky lady lives twenty minutes away form this sale... tomorrow plan to see me rummaging and heckling my way south on the 127 corridor, one of my favorite summertime traditions.
Putting a silly festive hammock up on my tiny apartment balcony has made all the difference in the world when it comes to relaxation. I spend an hour or so reading, chatting, sleeping or just staring off into the clouds. Its become the prefect spot to spend my summer nights and I'm so happy to find myself further away from that dammed television. So as long as that cool breeze keeps kicking I'll be out there swaying back and fourth, enjoying my summer on my colorful hammock.
The Great American Brass Band Festival holds a special place in my heart. Two years ago, my mother was going through a hard time so I kidnapped her for a road trip, we drove as far as we could, we drove from Florida to Kentucky in a rush of emotion and in a search of something new. We came across a small town, Danville, it was the week of the festival (this week) and people crowded the tree covered lawns of the campus with their families to enjoy the music and ambiance. I can only describe it as a real life Norman Rockwell painting. Everyone has a smile on their face, kids play, dogs run, people talk to each other even though they are perfect strangers. It’s almost unreal how dreamy it all is, shaded under hundred year old oak trees on rolling lawns with picnic baskets and live music. Since that day I'd made a promise to attend each year.
Last year I took my late grandfather, we split a funnel cake and he made jokes and smiled more than I had seen him smile in years. This year it was just Jon and I but as I lay on the lawn and looked up at the perfect blue sky I thought of Pop, and took a moment just for him. The breeze flowed cool and the air carried the music throughout the town, the festival is a free 3 day event and its unbelievable how uncrowded but full of life it is. I also just have to mention how friendly everyone is, people smile as they pass, they acknowledge each other, we'd been a dollar short when ordering a funnel cake, the man just smiled, made a joke and offered us a dollar discount, he even had us taste check first to make sure it was just as we liked it and added a bit of cinnamon for a special touch. Yeah, it’s that kind of town. After an hour of music, people watching and lounging we walked into downtown to stop at our favorite little coffee shop, the Hub. We sipped iced coffee on the street corner and sat at small wrought Iron tables and remembered the days when we lived there (this being our home for our first year of living in Kentucky). Though I truly love living in the city, I miss the community feeling of a small town and the overall friendliness that comes with it.
The festival ended at five and everyone jumped into their car and drove to the airfield for the hot air balloon race. The Great American Hot Air Balloon Race isn’t actually a race which was a surprise to me, given the name. The balloons took flight about ten minutes north and flew over a target within walking distance of us, they were each to drop a small bag of sand onto the “x” and whoever was the closest won. One after another the balloons rose over the hills, and as the sun set behind us they dropped bag after bag each completely missing the target. We all laughed and clapped, oooohhh'd and aahhhh'd and had a wonderful time. The skies were beautiful and just begged to be photographed. Whenever we’d thought the last balloon had landed another would fly over the horizon and this went on for hours. It was nine o’clock by the time the last balloon had landed and we drove home tired but filled with great memories of our evening at the Great American Festivities.
I was a little shutter-happy while at the races and have literally hundreds of photos to go through... so I'll be posting my photo stream in a few days, until then I hope these teasers to it justice : )
