I've been living in Lancaster for almost a year now, but I sadly don't know the city well at all. I get lost walking to get smoothies with friends and can't find my way back without the maps on my phone, but I know dirt paths down by the river nearly as well as I know the underlined passages of my favorite novels. Quiet, narrow lanes trekked often on foot in a variety of weather--seeing the same space transformed by frost or new blooms or turning into a child's game of hopscotch avoiding puddles and mud--are so like the meandering descriptions by my favorite authors that prefer to linger on detail rather than plot and both are well-loved by me. Still there is the pang of regret when I wander a few blocks from my house and everything looks unfamiliar; my reluctance to explore within the city or new novels leaves me woefully ignorant sometimes. I hope this summer I spend less time re-reading my favorite authors and exploring abandoned barns on my own and more time wandering downtown with friends...
Hi! Welcome to my dusty, wee corner of the Internet. What started as a fashion blog has now become a window into the wild and a way to share a moment of calm and quiet.
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