Across from Park Street is Elm Street, the last one I’ll describe on this blog. The train tracks cross here. The Old Company Store is on the left, just past Fearing Tavern Museum. The old Tremont Nail Company buildings sit on the right, town property yet to be repurposed. Just past that is the bridge, closed down for repairs at the moment. The water on the left side of the bridge is several feet higher than on the right. There’s a ladder for fish to climb, bypassing the gates that dam the water. The remains of a water wheel are still attached to the nail factory, a symbol of power and the passage of time.

Elm street needs work. Its pavement is bumpy from years of frost heaves and patching; the sidewalk is narrow, cracked, and sandy. It looks and feels like a neglected space, well past its prime and not yet reclaimed for future purposes. Except for The Old Company Store.

Over fifteen years ago, two sisters bought what once was the company store for the nail factory. They kept the wood floors inside and the shingles outside. A ton of cleaning, dreaming, and great attention to detail later, this store is one of the most successful businesses in town. Food, music, books, housewares, gifts of all sorts, special events – you can find it all here. The owners and staff are friendly and knowledgeable, the prices are more than reasonable, and shoppers find things here that malls just don’t offer. They support local charities and happenings. In recent years, they repaired and bricked the sidewalk from the edge of the bridge to a bit past their parking area. There are tubs of flowers and decorations for holidays. The love they have for this town and their business is evident in everything they do and everything I see here. Without a doubt, Wareham is a better place because The Old Company Store lives here.

Elm Street is a walk into possibility and neglect. The life of a town can go either way, and usually does. The difference is often connected to dreams and hard work, and an ongoing trust that nothing is beyond redemption. That’s a lesson I need to learn over and over again.

Question: What lessons are found on the streets of your town?

At the bottom of Cedar Street, I can see the beginning of Main Street to the right – a few hundred yards back at Warr Avenue. But I go the other way, walking past Tobey Hospital into town.The Agawam river meets salt water here at Besse Park, hosting swans and herons, fish and fishers. Train tracks run between Main Street and the river, disappearing behind downtown businesses just a few yards past the hospital.

Wareham village, the town center, looks good. New sidewalks and lights, gardens and trees make it a welcoming place – a federally funded facelift that encourages tourists and residents alike to spend time here. Riverside Cafe serves a tasty breakfast at a low price, Twigs & Tides offers the wares of local artists, Minerva’s has great pizza, and the post office staff is friendly and efficient. Bait and tackle, dog grooming, legal advice, haircuts, chiropractic adjustment, and gas for the car are all here in this half mile space.

The odd thing about Main Street: the businesses on the right side of the street, closest to the river, face away from the water. Changing tides and graceful wildlife are blocked from view by walls, storage rooms, and dumpsters. Riverside Cafe’s customers can see the insurance office across the street, but not the river. The only exception: Cafe Soleil. When it was Merchant’s Way Cafe years back, the owners built the dining room facing the river.

I love this downtown, but I see in it a cautionary tale. For convenience and the loveliness of human communal space, the wild world that feeds human bodies and souls is often ignored. The Agawam has its own life, far removed from human needs and preferences. It supplies fish and oysters, and destroys homes and streets when it floods. This tidal area serves a much larger purpose than feeding and entertaining me and the rest of the human family. It is fearfully and wonderfully made by and for the glory of God – not for the glory and convenience of humanity. When I walk on Main Street, I wonder if these buildings turn away from the river to avoid facing this.

Question: What can you see in the heart of your town?

For more information on this series of writings, see Walking Wareham on the “About” page.

It’s over a mile long, parallel to Main Street, and I find myself on it almost every day. It begins on Gibbs Avenue, with the blue and white hospital sign pointing the way. Mulberry Bed & Breakfast and Bladez Hair Salon are on its left side, workplaces and living spaces to their owners. A quarter mile down, Highland Avenue comes in on the right. Morse Avenue  comes next, its sign obscured by the grand Catalpa on its corner. Another few hundred yards along comes the light at Chapel Street/Marion Road. It’s as far as I’ll walk today.

One of my favorite things about High Street is its geometry. I can stand at any telephone pole, look either way, and see all the other poles on the street perfectly aligned with it. If I stand behind one pole, all the others disappear completely. It’s an amazing gift of engineering and craftsmanship. It’s the same with the old trees that line the sidewalk. I take time to enjoy this visual effect at least once a week, an investment of a few seconds to behold geometric perfection realized with wooden poles and living wood.

I know very little about civil engineering, but I know it’s made High Street a good place: a one-point perspective  in three dimensions, bringing with it a life-enhancing sense of proportion and order. It wasn’t created to be admired from afar. It was built for hands and feet, wheels and foliage, asphalt and wires. A public work that works for the public.

High street is a lesson. Skill and vision, with work and good materials, make an artful way to get people from one place to another – a beautiful means to an end beyond itself, outlasting its creators. It’s the same with scripture, poetry, and prayer – words thoughtfully aligned, beautiful in their own right, holy because we walk through them to God.

Question: What do you see on your town’s High Street?

For more information about the Walking Wareham writings, see  the “About” page.