At the end of my street...

At the end of my street...

...there is a church whose foundation was laid in 1908


...whose steeple was not built until after World War One,


And who each celebrates their St. Helen with a parade on the second Sunday of June at 4pm - sharp!

Mr. S and I went to have a look prior to the start of the parade and what we thought was a carpet that had been laid - but were shocked to find that it is in fact a series of patterns perfectly laid out in different bright colours of saw dust.

The parade was a more somber event, which did not seem appropriate to take photos of. There were rows of the congregation handing out bakes goods, people dressed as angels and tall monuments of St. Helen adorned with flowers.

At the end of it all we strolled by the carpet of saw dust to see that the marchers had mixed all the patterns together, leaving just a few hints of the perfection it was just moments before.
There was a nice gentleman from the church leaning on a poll watching us inspect the remains. He was waiting for the street cleaner to come and sweep it all away - "if you like this" he said "the church down the street does one twice as wide"

I fall more and more in love with our neighborhood every day.