51°, Sunday. Beautiful cloud covered skies, with some piquant blue showing now and again. I'm on the road, on the way to my brother's, to trade acupressure.
I see the flock of wild turkeys standing quietly on the sides, waiting for cars to notice, so that all of them can safely cross. In this area of town, they've known loss. They've known death and fear. They've learned. That some stupid humans don't stop. And some intelligent humans do.
Gloriously beautiful, all of their muted colors, their soon to be full-grown babies of this year.
A Red-tail hawk overhead, following the updrafts.
As we move into town, everyone is walking. Walking everywhere. A wonderful thing.
A few pastures: donkeys and burros and a pack of black horses , and sheep and goats all in their respective places, enjoying the rich fall grass, enjoying their momentary freedom. As their coats thicken and their layers of fat change , set off by the shifts in the light. Their bodies knowing of the season changes coming soon.
At the Lonewolf Deli, , and the Black Sheep Deli, fathers are breakfasting with college sons. Lovers are locked in kisses. People are huddling on benches, or scurrying by with children on their hips.
The beautiful silhouetted figures of Emily Dickinson conversing with her friend, just before her house, reminds us that she was here. Alive. Lived in those rooms. While she slept and wrote. Her Home, with her, long gone, open for visitors today. To wander about, and try to imagine what it was like to be her. And her days . Her choices. The origins.
Hope and Feathers Gallery is open, bright lights and signs, glorious artwork shining through the windows.
The Amherst train station stands as solid and in good repair as it might've been when it was built years ago. Awaiting changes in our train use, awaiting more people coming by, and soon, we will have a train coming through Northampton, too. A good thing, finally.
Further down, are all the homes where students live. . And everyone is fast asleep. Not a soul about. As the leaves continue to fall, sparkly and brazen in their colorful glory .
As high school students run along the sidewalk. Past huge white Stallions cavorting out in a deep green field. . Amethyst Brook rushing by, clean, gloriously beautiful.
People with dogs doing their constitutional's, smiling, the dogs with a bounce in their step, tails wagging, faces smiling with delight.
Kids walking past together, of all ages, laughing, debating, pushing each other's shoulders , back and forth.
Inimitable signs of life. As I drive past a large mailbox set up on a wooden post. Past a woman leaf blowing assiduously, coming to the end of it all with her yard.
The road now double lanes, with a canopy of branches and pine needles and bronze Oak leaves above, protective and beautiful.
As the homes before them hold clusters of chrysanthemums. Gourds. Stuffed people with pumpkinheads. Lovely things.
In neighborhoods where people own their homes, where there's little crime. With adequate food and shelter and warmth. Education. Access to jobs. Even in the easy places, life can be tough.
Imagine life in the tough places. Say a little prayer, today. For your own heart and mind . For your devotion to your species. For the small things you can do. For yourself. For others.
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