Not our lane but up the hill and around the corner and one I hadn't driven before.
Winding through the hills and forests, so typically western New York, especially in the way the sun dapples through the trees. There's always something new to discover.
I don't know if the house was lived in or deserted - a sign said "Private Drive Keep Out" in big orange letters. It could be the subject of many different kinds of story. And typical of western New York too, the lane turned rougher and wilder, a "seasonal use" road, as they call it - not one to be negotiated in winter. But in summer full of promise and a gentle urge to keep going.
For who knows what might be round the next corner?
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