New Galway was a small town--a village as the locals liked to call it. They thought village sounded more charming. It was a charming community, filled with local shops that gave you all of what you needed, plus a little extra. The salt water taffy store was a local favorite. The sweets came in a variety of flavors and there were local contests to come up with new ones. Not all were great hits--like avocado toast--but the villagers liked tasting them all the same. The larger of the two coffee shops boasted bold flavors of smoky coffee from far away places. While the people loved their town, it was nice to take a short adventure to somewhere else through their senses. The smaller coffee shop sold works and books by local artists and authors. It was a small collection, really, but those sold there were proud to say they were.
There was a local school, but it was rather small as schools in villages tend to be. The building itself was one of the oldest in town having been built by the first settlers to New Galway. It had been renovated over the years and had an extension built on, but everyone thought of the old building as the true school building. It was painted red--freshly painted at the start of each school year by the graduating seniors--and always had a light on. It was meant to always be a safe place to go, a refuge should anyone need it.
Besides the yearly painting of the school house, the citizens of New Galway had all manner of traditions. There was the biannual fishing contest to see who could get the biggest fish or the most exotic. There were the seasonal festivals that made the most of local produce and adding the scent of flowers, sunscreen, pumpkins, or nutmeg to the air, depending on the season. Then there were more ad hoc traditions like decorating the houses of those who had just had a baby or pranking the car of newlyweds. The village was small enough that everyone--or at least, mostly everyone--found these traditions to be done in good humor.
Strangers were rare to New Galway. They would get the occasional tourist travelling up and down the coast, but they rarely stayed long the first time; many would come back for a longer second visit during one of the seasonal festivals though. Those who lived there tried to be as welcoming as they could, but there was a natural curiosity to anyone who would end up in their village from outside it. The curiosity would die down though as the stranger would cease to be one.
The town itself was surrounded by a small wood. All manner of furry creature lived in there, but it had been decades since anyone had seen a dangerous one. Still, the elders of the village told of the time that a bear came right up to the school and the police had to chase it away. It was a fond memory as no one--not even the bear--was hurt. The woods smelled richly of pine. The smell would cling to everyone because they used wood from the the forest for their fires.
The sea itself seemed to sparkle more the closer to town you got. Logic would tell you that that was because of all of the extra light coming from the town, but the feel of New Galway would have you believing that the town itself sparkled in its own right. Everyone loved to be on the water. Fishing, swimming, kayaking, and all manner of ways to become one with the water were popular. Local fisherman provided the tastiest catches to the restaurants or, if they didn't need the extra cash, to their own grateful families. The fish tasted of salt and of the sea and thus, to those in New Galway, like home.
Wafting over it all was the sweet scent of the sea. Every now and then a whiff of seaweed would hit you, but that just made the town feel more grounded, earthier as opposed to the ethereal nature it sometimes had as though it would disappear into the mist like Brigadoon.
(Prompt by Kimisha Cassidy)
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