Down to the Shore

I felt drawn to the river this afternoon. When I got to MacEachron Park, a couple of kids who were picnicking with their extended family scooted ahead of me and staked a claim to the south-facing flat rock that I usually sit on. So I moved about ten yards upriver and sat on a smaller rock facing west and let the river come to me for a couple of hours. And it did.

Mostly I  listened to tunes on my iPod, and then did a trance induction and sucked it all in. But I could not resist a few pictures, marveling as I took them at the richness that surrounded my tiny perch. It's only a couple of hundred yards due west of the window I'm looking out now but, because of the trees and houses that block much of my view, it seems to be worlds away. 

All of these shots were taken within a 45-minute period with a pocket camera from the same spot — just looking in all directions, including up and down.

The first thing that caught my attention and brought me out of myself this afternoon was an old, IMG_3904bright blue detergent jug floating just beyond my reach. I don't know why, exactly, but it brought with it the following thought, which I copied into my notebook:

I saw an old laundry detergent jug
floating in the Hudson
And I wondered
if I'd reached the point
where I've known more people
who are dead
than I know people
who are alive.

After giving a second's thought to that, however, I decided that the living were way ahead of the dead. And we're only in the fourth inning. Let's label this little ditty, "That's Preposterous."

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