Shall we Walk a Bit?

My first day here, we explored the nearby area a bit, but I did not take a lot of pictures as we drove about. Later in the day, however, we walked down to get the mail and my camera went with me, because that’s what cameras are for. My dear friend (who shall be hereinafter known as The Author) has a cat, Van Gogh (named so for obvious reasons), who said hello as we left the house, but opted not to join us on our walk.

Outside her front porch, just at the base of the steps, are pots of color – Coleus, Mums, Caladium, Sweet Potato Vine – bright spots.

It’s a pleasant afternoon, mostly cloudy but not raining. It is New York State, it feels like New York State. A little bit of humidity, but with the moderate temperatures not suffocatingly humid. I love the greenery, the masses of foliage, but I do not love the humidity that encourages that greenery.

I am happy to be here, to have time with The Author, to revisit old times and make new memories. Last time we spent time together, our husbands were with us and I think they rather dominated. The two of them together meant trouble for anyone around – the devil seemed to sit on their shoulders. It is comfortable, this friendship, with no expectations or demands. We communicate frequently via email when not together and so it was not difficult to pick up the pieces.

She has, I think, boundless energy. Boundless interests. She motivates me to get moving – usually. Not this morning. This morning is rainy and I am being lazy, sitting still in my nightgown and robe although it is nearly lunch time.

Mother Nature’s paintbrush has only lightly touched the trees, shrubs and vines here. It is early in the season yet, but what color there is is stunning, eye-catching, put there specifically for me to capture with my camera, I am sure.

Let me show you more of what we saw as we walked.
The seed husks of the Hibiscus

Maple leaves showing their fall finery

a vine flaunting its fiery fall garb

The sumac just barely kissed with color.

Back at the house, I love the grasses she has growing in front of the porch, types of grasses that refuse to grow for me in our less cooperative climate.

And so went our first day. Yesterday we took a drive down memory lane, but I am as yet undecided as to whether I will share much of that or wait until I get home where I might find old pictures from when those lanes were only growing memories to compare.
These days are filled with enough; perhaps even more than enough. I wish for you those kinds of days.