The 7th Line

Over the past six months, since we signed on to have our new house built in Meaford, I have been back and forth up the 7th Line more than ever.  I already knew it quite well, as the quickest route north, but now it seems like an old friend.  Lots of landmarks along it catch my eye, and I can sit here and picture the entire 25 minute drive, mile by mile.

In our township 'Lines' refer to the north/south roads; sideroads run east/west.  The 7th Line starts just behind our house at Hutchison's Corners, and goes all the way to Meaford, about 30 km.

As you might guess, the old Hutchison's barn foundation is right beside Hutchison's Corners.

And across the street, this old hotel, very close to the road.  I'm told this is an old stagecoach stop; it's slowly but surely being fixed up nicely.

Two concessions north you come to the hamlet of Wodehouse.  Formerly it had a school, blacksmith shop, post office, and two mills.  There's nothing left but 4 houses and one abandoned house.  '88' is a very optimistic estimate!

Just at the north edge of Wodehouse is Wodehouse Creek, in an April picture when it's flooded and flowing down into the karst sinkholes just to the east.

Another concession and you come to the Alpaca Farm.

And across the road is one of two cemeteries you pass.  This is the old New England Cemetery, kitty corner from the old New England Church, now a house.  I actually had someone ask me once why they buried all the people in the centre of the small area.  In fact, they have gathered up the tombstones and placed them together to allow for continuing maintenance, as has been done with many tiny rural cemeteries in southern Ontario.

Just over the hill you drive down into a long bit of swamp, and yes, that's where the first fall colours appear.  This was taken today.

There are at least 4 dead-end sideroads that run to the east off the 7th Line, ending where they bump into the Niagara Escarpment cliffs.  All of them have sections that are forested like this, and virtually no traffic.

Another concession, and you pass the beautiful old Sligo School, one of the few stone one-room schoolhouses I've seen here.  I know someone who went to this school, now a residence.

And a concession beyond that is the only nearby canola field I've found this summer.

Then it's the village of Rocklyn.  The quilting group there is behind the barn quilt trail here, and they contributed this 'quilt' to the village, highlighting several of the active groups in the village.

This may sound like just a travelogue, but to me it's a matter of being embedded in the landscape, a sense of belonging that grows out of familiarity and comfort with the rural community.  As you get to know the farms, fields and woodlots in all the seasons, and get to know a few of the people who live along the road, you feel anchored in that landscape.  It's always on my mind as I drive back and forth.  The second half of the drive tomorrow.

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I was shocked today when the sun didn't rise until after 7!  I might even be up early enough to see the sunrise a few times.  The seasons move relentlessly on and the days get shorter and shorter.