We were country-cruising last summer in a sparsely-populated area of south-central Saskatchewan and made a spontaneous turn into Kayville, population 17, according to the only person we saw there.
This pretty shed was in the middle of a large schoolyard, the school had been converted into a home. There was no-one around to chat with so I approached the well-tended playhouse/garden shed/greenhouse close enough for a photo. It was a gem.
An old cement foundation from a former building served as a patio. A horse trough made for a roomy sunflower bed, an old washtub and half-barrels and a little red wagon were home for an overflowing tangle of petunias, geraniums, and zinnias.
It had a charming naturalness that I like, tidy, but not a decorator’s Pinterest perfection.
Maybe the She Shack put me in a mood to appreciate the rest of the village. We walked around two lovely churches and several old houses, all weathered but standing firm. Birds and a distant barking dog were the only signs of life in the sunny stillness.
We couldn’t resist just a bit of innocent trespassing behind this wagon wheel fence. A door was slightly ajar and we had a little peak into an abandoned living room. It looked like a movie set showing a quick getaway or maybe an art installation about prairie abandonment.
I liked these buildings still standing solidly in Kayville, one of the hundreds of once vibrant prairie towns that may soon cease to exist.
