This pic was taken across the road from our property — the foreground trees border the lower farm land (yes, we have farm land . . . I’m still trying to wrap my urban-centric brain around that idea) and the brown hills roll up to where our house will be built, tucked away from prying eyes (and cameras!) on the roadside.
The left and right side of the land peels away into more open farm land clotted with ubiquitous herds of sheep, red deer and cows (plus the occasional cluster of flop-eared Nubian goats), and we’re hoping that the area stays as open and farm-ish as it presently is — because it’s pretty much spot-on perfect with its expansive fields, slanting sunshine and rolling vistas.
Not that anything like that can ever be forever guaranteed. People need places to live, and expansive vistas are often carved up into easily manageable and affordable plots, no matter the public outcry.
Besides, I can hardly blame anyone for wanting their own chunk of Arrowtown paradise. It’s one of the most beautiful little cities I’ve ever laid eyes on.
See? What did I tell you . . . that’s a tiny slice of view just about a ten minute’s walk from where we live. And it sits there all unassuming, as if it doesn’t even know how special it is, getting rained on and snowed on and walked past, day after day.