What’s better than the idiosyncrasies of small towns?

Mary and I live in South County, Rhode Island. I don’t think you’ll find it on a map. The real name is Washington County, but around here everybody just calls it “South.”

Maybe it’s the fact that I’m a few days away from finishing my fourth novel, which happens to take place in South County among other places…

Or maybe it’s because our dog, Lucy, hooks me up every evening and takes me for a walk along the Narragansett Seawall where, in general, she allows her admiring fans to lean in close and scratch behind her ears until she decides they’ve had enough…

Or maybe it’s because the elections are drawing close, and the local politicians are going door to door and asking, “Do you have a few minutes to chat?”

But I find that I’m sinking deep into the sites and sounds of our community, which is holding its own against the onslaught those big-box organizations that are plucking the innocence out of small towns everywhere.

Take Wakefield. Last night Mary, one of our close friends, and I headed over to see Art at the Contemporary Theater. (A terrific show by the way.) There are little, orange flags at the crosswalks on Main Street. They come complete with instructions for crossing the streets without getting hurt.

Here’s a shot of Gigi and me crossing the street. I wonder if any other towns in America have a similar system.

Safe at last. (You can’t really see it, but Brickley’s Ice Cream is just behind us, a Rhode Island Institution that will make you forget Häagen Dazs.)

Wakefield is just one gem among a cluster of small New England towns. Along the Narragansett Seawall, for example, our local sculptors spend hours balancing rocks in interesting ways that are sometimes evocative of human bodies.

Down the road a little way, somebody posted this sticker on one of the public signs. I have no idea what “White Wall St. Is The Posse” means. Do you? I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with the message above it about discarding “unused worms in the trash.”

Of course, no picture of South County is complete without mention of the Blessing of the Fleet in Galilee, Rhode Island. The local fishing boats promenade in a cove, while a priest blesses their crew over loudspeakers and prays for a safe fishing season.

The sights are pretty good. Here’s a shot of two boats passing in review.

But I confess. In these settings, there’s nothing I like better than to eavesdropping on the running patter of South County residents, some of which will probably wind up in a novel.

When the boat named Captain Bligh motored by for its blessing, the woman on the rocks in front of us said, “Captain Bligh! More like captain, how am I staying afloat?”

The most satisfying stories, I think, are the ones where readers can disappear in to the charms of another world. So at this point, I’d like to ask:

Is there something uniquely different about your community? It could be a war memorial, a funny billboard, anything that doesn’t make the national news. If so tell us about it…or better yet, email a picture to norbvonnegut@gmail.com. I’d like to hear from you.