With canopied country lanes, meandering meadows of green and gold, whisper quite creeks, and gently rolling hills, the rural villages of Marshville and Peachland boast more fence posts and horses than people. Tucked snuggly away and centrally between interstate highways, it continues to defy time and the temptation to “improve”.  Artists come from far and wide to settle, sketch the barns, paint the fields, capture the magic of this area lost in time. There is no traffic, no big box stores, no noise. Horses have the right of way here.