A scarf worthy coolness, a magical gloominess, and damp, leafy smells wafting through the air; I eagerly picked the July twenty-ninth as my walking day. The overcast sky recalled images of my Hogwarts-style library in Greenwich Village, and the former haunts of my book journeys. I was enthusiastic when my mom agreed to walk with me. Behind the chipped white facades of Quarryville’s most time-loved wooden porches, a train line-turned-trail stretched over eight miles of rugged greenery. For forty-five minutes we sauntered over the grey gravel. A cream house with blue shutters caught my eye. It’s little lonely windows on the edge of town reminded me of somewhere I had visited in a hardback. I can’t wait for fall.
“There’s a darkness on the edge of town.” ~ Bruce Springsteen