 |
| Thirsk, as shown in James Herriot's Yorkshire during the 1970s. |
There’s something inherently peaceful about wandering
around the sleepy little Yorkshire villages in England. The lovingly preserved greengrocers, the
butcher’s and the baker’s, and all the other shops imbue a sense of
yearning. Life there seems so serene, untouched
by the waves of progress that relentlessly wash across our globe. The village of Thirsk, for example, even
boasts an old time cinema. While it
offers its patrons a modern screen and sound system, its façade and interior
seem little changed from the 1930s when James Herriot lived there. A trifle spiffed up perhaps, but no more than
necessary to make it a warm and inviting place.
Today’s cars may fill the town center, or seek what space is accorded them along the village streets, but one can still
blank those out, ignore the signs that signal current events, and imagine what
life must have been like decades (or even centuries ago). One can wonder what it might be like to
reside there. One can dream of a life away
from the hustle, noise, and anonymity of the city, in a place where anyone can
be someone, play a vital role in everyone’s life, and take part in everything
that goes on there.
 |
| Thirsk today. |
Then the locals confide that, in order to afford living
there, they must drive off to shop at Walmart on the weekends, and the illusion,
in all its grandeur, comes crashing down.
Still, one can dream.
Remembering Yorkshire,
Dragon Dave
Related Dragon Cache entries
No comments:
Post a Comment