The Conestoga River winds through the village of Hawkesville, about a half-hour’s drive from my studio. On a brisk January afternoon, I drove across the bridge upriver, and noticed a group of boys playing hockey on the ice below. I stopped and walked back to watch. Within seconds, I spotted a couple of horses and buggies parked on the adjacent field and realized that these were Mennonite boys. But, if I hadn’t noticed their mode of transportation, I wouldn’t have known.