Monthly Archives: January 2015

Words and Photos: Welcome Home

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Best known as a breath-taking winter destination for skiers, Vermont is also beautiful during the summer.  While enjoying a relaxing June weekend in the Green Mountain state, the scenic view of this  gracious and comfortable farmhouse caught my eye.

Welcome Home

Photo by L. LeVasseur, 1991.gfgt

Photo by L. LeVasseur, 1991

The white, clapboard house stands patiently waiting.  From its stone foundation, the hills and meadows of the New England countryside unfold like a verdant patchwork quilt.  Golden sunlight streams through its sparkling windows, filling the rooms with a mellow glow.  The farmhouse is empty now, but earlier in the day the parlor, kitchen and stairway had echoed with the kind-hearted industry of several aunts and cousins as they made preparations for the newlyweds, who are due to arrive at any moment.

As the sun dips below the horizon and the stars slowly appear above in the deepening lavender twilight, the house is silhouetted against the stark beauty of the mountains, a beacon to the young couple.  A shining black “Tin Lizzie” rattles down the lane and stops in the yard.  An elegantly dressed man extracts himself from the driver’s seat. He runs around to the passenger side of the open motor car.  Doffing his top hat, he extends a hand to his bride.  She places her hand in his and alights from the vehicle. The diaphanous folds of her white gown flutter in the evening breeze.  Arm-in-arm they climb the steps of the wide front porch.  The groom slips a key from his vest pocket and opens the front door.  As they step inside, the house welcomes them content in the knowledge that now it has become a home.

Words and Photos: The Bake Shop

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When I finished my master’s degree in Library Science, I took myself on a congratulatory trip to Quebec City, where I spent a long weekend exploring the historic walled city and snapping photos.  While wandering down a cobbled street, this wooden rabbit caught my eye and inspired a romantic and winsome photo essay.

Photo by L.A. LeVasseur, 1998

Photo by L.A. LeVasseur, 1998

At exactly 5:00, the bells in the church tower rang and the young man rounded the corner onto the Rue Saint-Paul.  He had left his office earlier than usual despite his secretary’s questions about that evening’s conference call.  Above him on the cliff overlooking the Saint Lawrence River, the roof of the Chateau Frontenac shone in the late afternoon sun.  Momentarily distracted by the iconic view of the famous hotel, he halted, but then set out again, quickening his pace.  He had to reach the bake shop before she closed for the day.

Moments later, he reached his destination and stood beneath  her open window.  Dainty lace curtains fluttered in the summer breeze.  He stooped, hands on his knees, trying to compose himself as he breathed in the warm scent of cinnamon.  The wooden rabbit she kept on the sill stood guard over a wicker basket that was probably filled with hot, fresh doughnuts or perhaps chocolate cookies.  He took off his aviator sunglasses and smiled at the toy sentry, which seemed to beckon him inside.

As he straightened and adjusted his suit coat and tie, she appeared in the mauve-framed window.  Her honey-colored curls were pulled back from her freckled face and her nose was smudged with flour.  She wore a cheerful yellow apron over a sleeveless floral dress.  Her arms were tanned and toned.  Reaching for the basket, she glanced down into the street and her bright blue eyes met his.

Mesmerized, she gazed into his hopeful grey eyes and slowly smiled.  There he was again!  Carefully, she stepped back and closed the window, still watching him.  She placed the basket on one of the round, cafe tables scattered across the hardwood floor and turned to the door.  Today, he would finally step inside and into her life.