Something about this house draws my eye each time I pass by.

I'm not sure whether it's the tiny perfect size, the simple lines, the pleasing colours, or the attention to detail like the boot scraper on the front step.

Perhaps it's the feeling I have that the house has a life all of its own. A character in some obscure drama.

I never see anyone sweeping the doorstep, washing the windows, or opening the white door. I never see the windows uncovered to let in the sun. Yet the tiny house is well cared for by unseen hands and never appears to be abandoned.

Today it sits ready for the holidays with a tasteful wreath on its simple front door. Who or what does it wait for?

»» House on West Main Street, Mahone Bay, Nova Scotia

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