There is an antique store near our home. It is a junky looking place surrounded by a fence and situated on the corner of a busy intersection. We pass it almost daily. There is a large fountain out by the road that sports a classical statue of a scantily clad Roman girl. My children think it is quite funny. There is an assortment of old bathtubs, yard gnomes playing cards, rusty chairs, and many more eccentricities. We generally have to sit at the light for a few minutes and the view is really better than an "I Spy" book.
The other day a new addition had arrived... and by new, I mean, well, quite old....
An antique carriage was sitting there, just inside the gate. Exclamations of approval and fascination came from the back seat. My son, with his little face pressed against the glass begged, "Can we go?"
The antique store had really just been part of the scenery - something to ponder while sitting in traffic, but now, with this question, it had the potential to be a destination. Since we were on the way somewhere and pushed for time, a visit wasn't possible, but... the idea had taken hold.
The next few days were marked by the persistence of my son and his drive to see the carriage first hand. He was also intrigued by the two large brick buildings on site. If the outside held such wonders, what would the inside hold?
We finally made a family trip to the antique store. The children both enjoyed the array of oddities in the yard. A closer inspection than the car had afforded yielded a vast wonderland of strange and wonderful objects. It was a living history lesson. The buildings were full of treasures from yesteryear, a typewriter that fascinated my daughter, a statue of a stag, very old toys like the circus train from the early 1900's, (we had seen one very similar at a toy exhibit at a museum in Virginia), and much, much more. As we picked our way through the precariously piled history, we reached the back of the warehouse.
A strange sound met our ears, and for a moment, I feared we were about to meet a creature of the rodent variety, but upon venturing forth, we discovered the most cunning little family of baby birds. They were so tiny, perfect, and adorable - really, really adorable. They were hopping about and practicing flying. They couldn't get off the ground much, but were using the antique china serving bowls as little jumping off points. They would jump and flutter their wings out and come to rest nearby, only to try and hop back up for another go. The children, and I must say, my husband and myself, were enchanted.
They were so close to us, we could have touched them, though we refrained (barely!). And then, to up the cute factor even more, the Mother arrived in the window high up on the back wall. She was carrying a little wormy thing in her mouth. She made a big show of flapping about and scolding, so we backed off around the corner of an old hutch and she approached one of her offspring that was perched on an antique fire fighter's helmet. The little bird took the worm from her in a lightning fast bite and then she was off again.
Here we were enjoying a nature and history adventure... all because we kept our eyes open to the world around us... or at least my children did. I probably would have just kept driving by that place... forever.
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