Lam Erin’s Cherishville is a place that changes with the seasons, sometimes shifting location in the process; it’s also a place I do attempt to visit annually in order to catch one of its annual looks. The last time I did so was in winter (see Cherishville’s winter 2023 in Second Life) and I had intended to drop in during the summer during 2024; sadly, that didn’t happen for assorted reasons, so once again it is autumn that brought me back to the setting, and probably not too far ahead of winter once more taking over.
While the setting has at times dipped a toe into more tropical settings, for most of the iterations I’ve covered in these pages it has presented a look and feel of a location somewhere within the North American continent, and the same is true with this iteration. This is not to say they each look in any way similar as the seasons pass; each setting very much has its own unique look and feel. Rather, the general design and flora used within each of Cherishville’s iterations offers as a sense of loose theme for the settings presented, as if they are different locations along a journey.
For Autumn 2024, there is also a further dimension to this idea of journeying: that of travelling through time. With a couple of exceptions, the road vehicles occupying the setting suggest the 1930s and 1940s (and even the exceptions suggest a not-too-distant leap from there to the 1950s). While there is nothing implicit to suggest the setting is intended to be from those decades – the buildings sandwiched between the north-side main road and the railway track paralleling it could be from almost any period of the last century and a half (or more) -, the vehicles help to offer a sense of period to the setting.
But that said, there are anomalies to this feeling: the traffic lights serving the pedestrian crossings along the road seem to come from much later that the 1940s; whilst in terms of location, there are touches here and there that are perhaps more European in nature, such as a British telephone box and French-style advertising kiosk. Whilst these might be slightly anachronistic given the North American vibe noted above, they nevertheless work and remind us that SL can be anywhere we chose it to be.
It is on the north side of the setting mentioned above that the designated (but unenforced) Landing Point has been set. It sits at the western extent of the road, which points towards the steeple of the local church sitting at its far end. A bridge with the promise of a botanic garden on its other side forms the local ending to the road, but the sign’s promise is false: across its pan is just a small spit of land. Street lamps along the road huddle under the boughs of tree from which the wind is pulling brown and gold leaves whilst the rain covers the cobble road’s surface in a patina of ripple-spreading splashes.
Set back from the road and behind the protection of a wrought iron fence, the miscellaneous houses and cottages seem to offer various retreats from the tumbling rain, both indoors and under the false shelter of a pergola, although it is perhaps the bakery-café alongside the railway platform which offers the warmest and cosiest welcome. Trains and tracks tend to be another motif in Lam’s build, and the presence of the track as it sits over the large, flagstone-paved expanse behind the houses gives the setting a further link to past iterations of Cherishville.
The train rail are further paralleled by a broad body of water entering the setting from its eastern end, where it passes under a low-slung bridge to flow through the landscape before making a right turn through boulders and shallows, making a turn to the north. Here it slips under the railway bridge and that of the one promising a walk through the botanic park, and from there exiting the region once.
South of the water and road bridge, the countryside of the setting becomes more rural and perhaps a little more mysterious. An old armchair sits out on the road just beyond the bridge, potentially hampering traffic whilst also maybe directing attention to the roofed cart with its lights and hay bails as possibly offering a slightly drier place for people to sit. Tall ranks of corn on the cob plants stand on parade to one side of the road here, apparently called to order by the slightly spooky scarecrow standing in their midst, his arms perches for local ravens.
The local road sign here is not encouraging, offering directions to the likes of the Bates Motel, Amityville, Elm St., and Sleepy Hollow amongst other destinations; however it is in keeping with the time of year, so might have been raised by some local wag as a Halloween joke, particularly given the nature of the little barn sitting at the end of the track the road sign guards.
Another barn stands atop a low hill on the southern extent of the land, but this one appears to be far more for the purposes of farming. Certainly, the guard duty here has been taken over by rows of innocently-faced sunflowers, leaving the grasping fingers of the corn behind. The sunflowers are also marshalled by far less creepy scarecrow as the road loops past to make its way back to where it is crossed by the railway line, the bridge of which offering a way back to town.
Caught under a leaden sky heavy with cloud and in keeping with the downpour, Cherishville offers numerous places to sit and – as one would expect – multiple opportunities for photography. I wasn’t too convinced by the little ball of a full Moon lurking at tree-top height and looking as if it might be looking for a place to land between the region’s eastern side and the outlying region surround – but a quick click with object derender meant it was no longer a distraction. Outside of this, meandering and camming through Cherishville came with its usual pleasure, and it was interesting to see someone else putting what appears to be Alex Bader’s PBR terrain materials to good use (as I’ve done on my home island).
SLurl Details
- Cherishvile Autumn 2024 (Tuscan Hills, rated Moderate)
Inara Pey: Living in a Modemworld 