As soon as I crested the hill I knew something was different.
The neighborhood below had changed. The houses looked - less there - as though they were thinning and slipping from view. Slipping, perhaps, into a different dimension.
It took me a few moments to realize the unusually heavy frost had turned black roofs to white, green lawns to silver and car exteriors to opaque crystals. Perhaps when the sun rose everything would be sparkling bright, but in the dim light of almost-dawn the scene was of a community that had gone ghostly pale.
Perhaps fitting for Halloween morn, but disconcerting enough to make me wonder if the houses were truly as substantial as they had been the day before.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
The Latest in Costumes
Ding-dong.... Trick or Treat
Oh, and what do we have here? Are you the Pillsbury Dough Boy?
No ma'am. I'm a snowman.
Snowman! A little early for that isn't it?
Not according to Mother Nature.
And who's your friend supposed to be.
He's Al Gore.
Really? He looks like a court jester.
Well ma'am, the two kind of go hand in hand don't they - I mean the whole global warming thing and all.
Oh, and what do we have here? Are you the Pillsbury Dough Boy?
No ma'am. I'm a snowman.
Snowman! A little early for that isn't it?
Not according to Mother Nature.
And who's your friend supposed to be.
He's Al Gore.
Really? He looks like a court jester.
Well ma'am, the two kind of go hand in hand don't they - I mean the whole global warming thing and all.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Slipping Away
The patchwork colors rippled beneath me and a pair of birds with five foot wingspans swooped down from above.
Trees sporting post-summer colors were reflected in the surface of the lake. The paddle that I dipped into the water stirred the colors the way a heavy wooden spoon swirls ingredients in a mixing bowl.
The birds turned out to be herons that had come to inspect the person slipping across the lake. The subject of their inspection was yours truly.
Along with other family members, I spent a beautiful sunny Sunday kayaking in Marsh Creek Lake. The outing represented my first kayaking experience in quiet waters - an activity I heartily recommend,
Trees sporting post-summer colors were reflected in the surface of the lake. The paddle that I dipped into the water stirred the colors the way a heavy wooden spoon swirls ingredients in a mixing bowl.
The birds turned out to be herons that had come to inspect the person slipping across the lake. The subject of their inspection was yours truly.
Along with other family members, I spent a beautiful sunny Sunday kayaking in Marsh Creek Lake. The outing represented my first kayaking experience in quiet waters - an activity I heartily recommend,
Monday, October 24, 2011
Filling the Hole to China
I've found the hole to China.
There is a pothole in our development that refuses to be filled. Time after time road crews have attempted to make the mini-crater go away by filling it with asphalt, stones, and probably anything else the crews can get their hands on. And time after time the pothole reappears.
Enough stuff has been poured into that hole that on the other side of the earth, at a point directly opposite the Delaware pothole, a mound of earth must be continually forming from the building pressure.
I'm picturing a resident of Shanghai unable to achieve Zen. Every weekend he rakes the sand in his Zen garden smooth - and by the following weekend the center of his garden has bulged upward like a volcano intruding on his sanctuary of peace.
By now the stressed out man in Shanghai has called in garden experts, geologists... and probably psychologists. All to no avail. For every time peace is in sight, a guy in Delaware starts the pressure building again.
There is a pothole in our development that refuses to be filled. Time after time road crews have attempted to make the mini-crater go away by filling it with asphalt, stones, and probably anything else the crews can get their hands on. And time after time the pothole reappears.
Enough stuff has been poured into that hole that on the other side of the earth, at a point directly opposite the Delaware pothole, a mound of earth must be continually forming from the building pressure.
I'm picturing a resident of Shanghai unable to achieve Zen. Every weekend he rakes the sand in his Zen garden smooth - and by the following weekend the center of his garden has bulged upward like a volcano intruding on his sanctuary of peace.
By now the stressed out man in Shanghai has called in garden experts, geologists... and probably psychologists. All to no avail. For every time peace is in sight, a guy in Delaware starts the pressure building again.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Birthday Bash
People yelling and screaming - shouts coming from all directions. Groups of people pushing forward in tight spaces while larger crowds surge past in endless streams. The unceasing noise of machinery at work.
No, it wasn't a disaster, nor was it a haunted house or fight film. It was Hershey Park after dark.
Friends and family of yours truly gathered in Hershey PA for the third annual Bruce's Birthday Bash with a single goal in mind - to ride every roller coaster in Hershey Amusement Park.
While we fell short of our goal due to circumstances beyond our control we had a blast trying. This annual event seems to grow a little larger every year and every year I enjoy it just as much or a little more.
No, it wasn't a disaster, nor was it a haunted house or fight film. It was Hershey Park after dark.
Friends and family of yours truly gathered in Hershey PA for the third annual Bruce's Birthday Bash with a single goal in mind - to ride every roller coaster in Hershey Amusement Park.
While we fell short of our goal due to circumstances beyond our control we had a blast trying. This annual event seems to grow a little larger every year and every year I enjoy it just as much or a little more.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Morning Universe
The windshield wipers moved at the speed of a marathon runner's pulse. Tail lights ahead flickered from individual pairs to blurred groups of four and six, then back again between each swipe of the wipers. Tires threw water into wheel wells with hurricane force, the express spray fountaining into the air where it mixed with driving rain to further reduce visibility.
Familiar bends in the road came up by surprise, hidden in the early morning darkness and sheets of falling water. The radio was drowned out by the thump of wipers and drumming of rain. The 120 cubic feet within my car was a universe unto itself - somehow managing to slip along without incident.
It is on mornings like this that I think workdays should be governed by the rising and the setting of the sun - not the hands of a clock.
Familiar bends in the road came up by surprise, hidden in the early morning darkness and sheets of falling water. The radio was drowned out by the thump of wipers and drumming of rain. The 120 cubic feet within my car was a universe unto itself - somehow managing to slip along without incident.
It is on mornings like this that I think workdays should be governed by the rising and the setting of the sun - not the hands of a clock.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Noooooo Pockets?
It's not enough that I have to remember my sleeve length and collar size when I'm shopping for dress shirts - now I need to remember to check for pockets too.
I made this discovery when I went to put my eyeglass case in the pocket of a new shirt - and the case landed on the toe of my shoe.
What the h... I managed to clip off the worst of the statement to save myself looking any more of a fool. Notice I say more of a fool because ten people around the meeting table had watched me try to put something in a pocket that wasn' t there.
Never , ever should a dress shirt be produced without a pocket so far as I'm concerned. But if pockets are in fact destined to be optional, then the packaging should clearly indicate the absence of a critical component. - I'm thinking this labeling would be a great come-back opportunity for Mr. Bill (from Saturday Night live) Oh Nooooooo.... Noooooo pockets!
I made this discovery when I went to put my eyeglass case in the pocket of a new shirt - and the case landed on the toe of my shoe.
What the h... I managed to clip off the worst of the statement to save myself looking any more of a fool. Notice I say more of a fool because ten people around the meeting table had watched me try to put something in a pocket that wasn' t there.
Never , ever should a dress shirt be produced without a pocket so far as I'm concerned. But if pockets are in fact destined to be optional, then the packaging should clearly indicate the absence of a critical component. - I'm thinking this labeling would be a great come-back opportunity for Mr. Bill (from Saturday Night live) Oh Nooooooo.... Noooooo pockets!
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