Time spent in the Catskills – so close to Manhattan, yet so far away, without newspaper, television, radio, or car is quiet time. Here it’s seven miles to the nearest town. I stay put enjoying the numerous, beautiful massive trees surrounding the house; and the woods inviting me to walk into them to explore; and the daffodils that are beginning to bloom wherever you look; and the streams of clear water gently flowing toward the Black River; and the ladybugs. The lady bugs are everywhere. During the day they’re busy. By evening they’re a shell of their former selves. “What is their life span?” I wonder to myself. It seems they’re here today and gone tomorrow.
There are old, weather-beaten wooden lawn chairs scattered around the back of the house with old worn tables to accompany them. An Adirondack chair looks comfortable in its own space with its back to the house. They beckon the onlooker with their presence. Post card pretty is what they are. They say, when seen from the kitchen window or porch, “life is real good here, find a book, bring a slice of apple pie and a cup of coffee, choose a chair and sit a spell.”
On the land is a well-designed grill made of stone. It’s very old. Actually, it’s a bit regal looking to me. It seems to sense that it fits in nicely with the land. It was probably built by a former occupant of the house-perhaps the same occupant who long ago built the lovely house. The grill has three shelves built-in for placing plates, utensils and pans. It’s a fine place for grilling and gets a lot of use. I said to myself today, “It’s a fine grill for toasting marshmallows, too.” Here the nearest neighbor is not next door. That’s okay, there’s plenty of weeding to do, and you can chat with nature while walking the wheelbarrow full of weeds to the back where someday they’ll be part of a nice bon fire. It sure is a change from life in the big city. They say change is good. I believe it.