While I was standing in front of the charming Rebersburg, Pennsylvania post office taking photos, the clip-clop sounds of an Amish buggy crept up behind me. As the buggy rolled by, a little girl of maybe 7 or 8 hung halfway out of the back window. She wore a bonnet and had rosy cheeks. Her chin rested on her arm along the window’s edge. Her eyes were fixed on me, the spacewoman in the orange helmet. I raised my hand and waved to her. She smiled and waved back. The horse clip-clopped and pulled her further and further away.
So long, little one. I will think of you again. I wonder, will you think of me too?
Rebersburg was a sleepy place on a Sunday morning. There was nothing doing save for me taking photos and a buggy passing through once in a while. That gave me a chance to look around the little town without feeling self-conscious about gawking at people’s lives.
I found the little store, Hettinger’s Grocery, to be especially endearing. With its wavy glass windows and homemade sign, it had all the right fixins to be the type of place I like. The type that tugs at my nostalgia-loving’ heart.
Just look at the carrots on that sign. The milk, the eggs. And can we talk about those bananas? Perfection.
Riding around in farm country, you get to see all manner of handmade signs. They often have a particularly jaunty penmanship and a scrappy make-do feel. They are wonderful because of their lack of polish and pretense. They almost make me want to buy turnips, horseradish, and baby ducks. Thankfully my tankbag doesn’t usually have enough room.