There are two things about me which may not be obvious (or maybe they are obvious and you know already): I like holidays and I am nosy. Not horribly nosy. Not the sort of person that sticks their beak into other people’s business just for the sake of it. But I am a writer and I do like to know what is happening around me. And on holidays, I am often intrigued by things that I don’t meet at home.
A couple of years ago, we went to America. We went to New England in autumn, or the Fall. We went on a tour, had a great time and saw many interesting things on our trip, but the most interesting were those we stumbled on. Like the pumpkin path in the picture.
Our guide took us to Deerfield in Massachusetts, a small historic town with beautiful houses and a fascinating history. He told us we would be there for an hour and we had time to go and explore. We all piled off the coach, everyone else went one way, my husband and I took a different direction, which proved to be typical of the day. Left to our own devices, we wandered off and found the pumpkin path. My husband was dubious when I said I wanted to follow it.
“You can’t. It might be someone’s driveway.”
“But it’s an invitation,” I insisted. And I set off along the path to discover what might be going on, hoping I was not about to gatecrash someone’s private barbecue.
On the stage, a little group played music. Everyone was very friendly. We chatted to several people, informing them that we had come all the way from England to visit their Bring and Buy. They seemed amused that we would even bother to follow the pumpkin path to find out what was happening. I bought an advent calendar in the shape of a moose for one dollar, lots of little muffins and some homemade oreo biscuits. After saying our goodbyes, we wandered around a bit more, admired the houses and the intriguing post office and made our way back to the coach. There were enough of the goodies to share with everyone and they all enjoyed the spoils of our foraging.
The guide greeted us with amazement.
“I’ve been bringing people here to Deerfield for years and I have never known anyone find anywhere to shop.”
We smiled. That’s what comes of being nosy in New England.