When you think of Kentucky, what do you think of?
Probably some mix of horse farms, hillbillies, bourbon, coal mines, and bluegrass bands. Maybe throw in some University of Kentucky/Louisville sports for good measure?
I wouldn’t disagree with any of those descriptions, but for me, Kentucky is best represented by its small towns, which are usually less exciting than the stereotypical image- coal-mining hillbillies riding horses and drinking bourbon while bluegrass music plays in the background – would suggest.
Admittedly, I’ve never lived in a small Kentucky town, so I can’t really speak to their character, but I do like to visit them sometimes for little day trips to get out of the city. There’s usually not a lot to do, maybe some antique shops, a café, and if you’re lucky, historical site of some famous settlement or battleground or birthplace.
A few days before I went back to school, my parents and I went out to Harrodsburg and Danville KY to pass an afternoon. Like most small towns, there wasn’t a lot to do in either place, but that was sort of the point.
In Harrodsburg, there was an old pioneer settlement that had been converted into a park that we visited for an hour or two and where I did my photos. Being winter, it was pretty empty. The most exciting bit was honestly a cat that was roaming around and some friendly sheep that let us pet them.
Second most exciting was probably this cool old tree just outside the park. If I’d been wearing something other than a mini pencil skirt (which, interestingly, was ruined in the wash immediately after this trip) I would’ve climbed it more extensively because it was honestly one of the most perfect climbing-type trees I’d ever seen – knotty, twisty, and with thick branches in all the right places.
In Danville, about 20 minutes drive from Harrodsburg, we saw an old dollhouse museum, an antique shop, and got dinner at a Mexican restaurant. I don’t have any pictures from that part of the trip because the sun had started going down and the lighting made it so it wasn’t worth the effort, but it was more of the same: old buildings and old trees and old back roads.
I am not and will likely never be a country girl, but every once in a while, it’s nice.
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