The Village of Degerby

(We did a blog on a favorite place and it was a little hard for some to get started, so I did it with them. This is my example.)

Halfway around the world, and almost as far north as Santa's home in the north pole, there lies a tiny little village called Degerby in the land of Finland. I lived there for almost a year.

The village had about 15 houses, one school, a bank, a Lutheran church, and a recycling center. And that was about it. Other than a small hill and a lot of trees. Oh, and of course, people. Children ran around the town from house to house, playing with their friends, walking back and forth to school, and generally having free reign. Everyone knew each other and spoke to each other regularly.

The hill was in the middle of the town and all the houses were situated either around the bottom, or nestled on the hillside. We walked over the hill to visit friends, or around the hill to reach the school.

The village was quiet, especially at the house I lived in because it was the last house on the road into the village, so if a car came by, we knew it was coming to our house. On one side of the house was a garden, with a chicken house, and then miles and miles of fields. On the other side was the wooded hill with a line of birch trees marching up the road. It was a peaceful place.