We’re escaping the continuing New England storms, by driving straight for our friend’s farm in Western Pennsylvania.
We get in the car in the rain, sad that we have lost our plans to the weather. We have lost days at this wonderful resort, swimming and dancing to the bands, also a bluegrass/blues fest, my dream of decades to visit Thoreau’s Walden Pond. Even more than those, spending more time with our free ranging New England friends.
Our feelings are less a new adventure and more an escape, like some kind of naked refugees from a flood, crossing the waters to wash up in the warm sunshine.
Much of the American wealth comes this way. Making our way on the back country roads to the highways, we come across this.
“Wow, NEW England!”We make our way across Connecticut through that upper section of the American megalopolis and insurance behemoths.
The turnpike and facilities are well done, we make good time through Pennsylvania, taking just a few short breaks, slipping on kilt and sundress. A Great Lake and a million trees pass by soon enough.
When we finally pull up at our friend’s organic back to the land habitat, the day is waning. We are directed to park over by the barn driving over the freshly mowed lawn. It is still disconcerting to me to drive on people’s lawns!
He is out getting his chainsaw together. She looks into the car and seeing naked us, says, “Cute” and then grinning “look at you.” We are welcomed as ourselves.
In Arizona, we might be met by her in similar outfit, but here, we are told, there is family dropping in with different sensibilities.
After hugs, we are given the blessing to dress as we …