This trip wasn’t about photography like my trip to Venice was, but I kept my camera with me and I was always looking. Very occasionally I’d wander off by myself, but usually Grace was just very patient. I’m lucky that way.

I found myself drawn to this little stone chapel on the Indiana University campus. It was such a surprise to find a chapel and cemetery right next to the Student Union. Situated as it was under the trees it looked like something out of a fairy tale. I took several (okay, many) pictures of it from different vantage points and in different light, but it wasn’t until I got home and reviewed the images that I realized I had framed it in an identical way on two different visits.

Except the images are far from identical. What a difference light makes! The first view, taken in the early morning, makes the church look cold and forbidding to me. The way the doors are in shadow makes it seem a little eerie. The chapel was open, but I wouldn’t have wanted to go in there alone. The second view was taken at night. The floodlighting warms up the stone and the glow from inside is so inviting. No wonder someone stopped by.

And it’s the bicycle that made me stop and make the photograph. Without it, the image would be a nice postcard. With it, the picture suggests a story to me. Who is stopping by the little chapel at 9:00 on a Monday night? I can imagine so many scenarios, and those imaginings cause me to linger over the photograph.

I’m very curious about the power of still images to tell stories. What do you think about this? What makes a photograph evocative for you?

Point A was in Indiana. Point B was in Tennessee. And the state of Kentucky was in between. I couldn’t stand the thought of driving straight through a place I’d never been before when we had some time to explore. A little research in Fodor’s Essential South yielded this: “Set among the picturesque horse farms of the Inner Bluegrass, the historic towns of Midway and Versailles each have Main Streets lined with antiques shops and eclectic eateries that are lovely places to stop for lunch and a little shopping while sightseeing in horse country.” Bingo.

We had lunch in Midway at a charming little bookstore/cafe called The Wonderland Cafe. (We are nothing if not consistent. Although I did go a bit crazy and have iced coffee this time.) Then we turned on to the Bluegrass Scenic Byway, a 6-mile stretch leading to the small town of Versailles.

Time out for a small rant:

I completely understand that it is possible for local folks to appreciate the beauty that surrounds them and still just want to get where they are going. It is not amusing for them to be stuck behind someone who is taking her sweet time enjoying the scenery. So . . . a word to those in charge of designing such things: it is not helpful to have a Scenic Route with a speed limit of 55 mph and no available shoulder so you can pull over and let others pass. Just when I was pretty sure the car behind me was going to end up in my back seat, I saw a road off to the right and I took it.

Back to our story:

It was probably a very long private driveway but it looked like a country lane so I kept going. Slowly. It was lined with trees and fences on both sides with pastures beyond. And eventually, off to the right, I saw what I had been hoping for. The horses.

Oh my goodness, the beauty. It was June 1st and we found a herd with at least six baby horses!

Baby animals are cute in general, and baby horses are hilarious. I think Grace and I spent almost an hour just standing by the fence watching them. Some of the horses came over to inspect us, but once they realized we could offer neither treats nor pets, they went back about their business. The babies would sidle up next to Mom for a snack and then, for no apparent reason other than that it was fun, they would start to run. All legs and gangliness and joy. I swear they were playing Kentucky Derby. “Me! I’m the winner! Meeeee!!”

Hard to believe that a few hours later we were on Highway 65 doing 0 miles per hour behind a great big orange truck. But I didn’t get too cranky because I could go back in my mind to this happy place:

Grace and I got home Tuesday night and I’m still savoring. If you forget about the cicadas (and that is hard for me), it was really a perfect trip. It was just lovely to spend time exploring together. We visited Bloomington, IN, Nashville, TN, Asheville, NC, and Chapel Hill, NC, with brief stops in Midway, KY, Cookeville, TN, and Greensboro, NC. The brief stops were usually to feed my coffee addiction. As co-pilot/navigator, Grace discovered the unbeatable combination of iPhone and GPS to track down coffee houses with interesting names like Poets on the Square in Cookeville. So much fun.

We also did our best to visit bookstores in each main stop. We love bookstores, especially the ones that sell used books. Each one seems to have its own personality. When the shopkeeper is friendly and the selection is eclectic, the time just disappears. We can recommend to you Caveat Emptor and The Book Corner in Bloomington.

But we agreed that no bookstore has ever impressed us as much as The Battery Park Book Exchange in Asheville, NC. Something about the two-story space full of all kinds of books, the comfortable furniture and well-placed reading lamps, the deep orangey-red walls and richly patterned rugs — it all combined to create an ambiance that delighted both of us.

And — no real surprise — they also offered pretty coffee.

So what is it about this place that makes it so special? I noticed that several of the coffee tables had reserved signs on them with a person’s name and a time. The woman who made that beautiful beverage told me that many groups meet regularly in the store. Book groups, writing groups, knitting groups, friends who like to play board games, and friends who just like to sit together and visit. All are welcome. Doesn’t that sound nice?

And they can bring their dogs! Oh, and did I mention they also serve champagne? Their business card puts it this way: “Selling books by the thousands, wines by the glass and serving freely, all dogs, daily.” Grace and I returned in the evening and it was like entering a big living room. Most of the chairs were occupied, people were talking and laughing quietly, and there were dogs of all shapes and sizes sitting near their owners and using their company manners. I know if I lived in Asheville, The Battery Park Book Exchange would be my place. With due respect to the cafe at Pt. Isabel Dog Park, I’d call it the Sit-and-Stay Bookstore.

So now I’m fascinated to learn about bookstores. Do you have a favorite? I’d love to hear about it.