A brief-yet-ongoing journal of all things Carmi. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll reach for your mouse to click back to Google. But you'll be intrigued. And you'll feel compelled to return following your next bowl of oatmeal. With brown sugar. And milk.
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Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Don't tread on me
Step to it
Montreal, QC, August 2010
[Click here for more Thematic sepia]
Sure, they're just stairs. But they're delightfully old and worn, and if they could talk they'd probably have such stories to tell of their countless summers and winters by the water at the far end of the island of Montreal.
After I took this picture, I closed my eyes and wondered what stories those might be.
Your turn: Care to share one?
4 comments:
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maybe the way they creak and groan when we walk on them are their way of telling us.
ReplyDelete"MOM! Tommy dropped his ice cream on the steps.... AGAIN!"
ReplyDeleteSteps are where I do all my thinking, I have a step in the garden and I often find myself sat there contemplating my next move, its over a foot thick with snow outside today so my thinking was done on the settee ..
ReplyDeletemaybe those steps know more than they are giving away ...
...and maybe those steps also still hold threads from the clothes of people who have sprinted up them
ReplyDeleteclick in, they're there still......