Out of Vernon, CT, under bright blue skies and warm air, headed west and south.
Stopped for lunch at Fishkill, NY, (no I'm not kidding) then passed though Peekskill (huh?), crossing the Hudson River via the Bear Mountain Road Bridge, built in 1912. Went west through the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania and arrived finally in Scranton, PA. All lovely, leaves changing later since we are now more southerly, with broad expanses of hillsides in green, yellow, red, and gold. Talked with some very friendly locals who had high praise for Vancouver, which is printed on my jacket front. We don't mention Chilliwack BC to these people, they wouldn't understand just like you wouldn't understand Fishkill NY. (What? Where? Oh. That's a funny name. Hey brudda, what yo doin chillin in the Wack??)
The hillsides referred to above are lovely, for sure, like an impressionist's canvas seen from across the gallery. But as we drive by we see that they are trees going dormant, losing their leaves and showing bare branches this late in the season. Success is like that too, often better seen from a distance and it doesn't always bear close scrutiny of the brushstrokes. I'm thinking still of the Kennedys and the rumrunning fortune built by the old man coupled with the corrupt Boston politics of JFK's maternal grandfather, John Francis 'Honey Fitz' Fitzgerald. But JFK rose above it.
Holed up now in Scranton writing this, then Jan and I off to dinner and bed early. The destiation for tomorrow is Washington DC and, depending on what we find, perhaps a couple of days out of the saddle enjoying the city. Anyplace that bears the label of 'Murder Capital of the US' should be interesting and have a few laughs. And that doesn't even include what its most notorious resident, 'Dubbya', has presided over.
