Virginia is known as horse country but in remote southwest Virginia bucolic little farms are connected by tiny winding well paved roads. I want to ride my Bonneville here, not walk my beloved dog.
A few commuters buzzed me as I took pictures but we were mostly alone in this wilderness on the road between Catawba and Blacksburg.
Abandoned buildings sink into the flourishing undergrowth.
Scattered farmsteads nestle among the rolling hills that remind me of my childhood in central Italy.
Everything was green and fresh and the air was cool and crisp.
This perfectly manicured lawn was attached to no building or home as far as I could see. It was like a movie set in the middle of nowhere.
I was entranced.
Everywhere I looked I saw scenes like this.
Houses are tucked in so deep they don't intrude, even these modern suburban boxes.
My massive set of wheels was dwarfed by the rolling fields spreading across the horizon.
A Key West sign warning the dim witted that collapsing old barns might be dangerous. Imagine that!
Dangerous for the unwary, but charming in the early morning light.
A promising start to the day.
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