Berkshire ramblings

I'm sitting in yet another coffee shop. This one is in Blandford, MA, in the Blandford Country Store. I'm tapped into wi-fi from the library accross the street. It's a beautiful day out. Right around 60 degrees. Warm enough that I don't need my fuzzy cowl, but chilly enough that I'm glad to have my heavier jacket.

I wandered around through several of the towns from my childhood. The scenery was beautiful. I took about 17 minutes of video. Unfortunately it was too much for my little 2GB SD card. I had to delete the pics and vids I'd already downloaded to my computer, then when I stopped, I had to clean it off again. It's good quality at least.

I find myself lusting after a helmet cam or something I can mount on the front of my scooter. I saw one yesterday for $160 and was sorely tempted, but I really can't afford one right now, so I resisted the urge.

If you watch the video I took, you'll hear me say something to this effect, but I grew up very close to rushing water. That sound is somehow comforting to me, which stands to reason I suppose, since it was a constant part of my early childhood. That and trains. I feel a great sense of peace when I hear a train whistle, but then, the main line from Springfield to Albany ran practically on my front doorstep when I was a kid.

In a way, my journey was sad today, but it was also peaceful. The places I know from my youth have changed. In many ways they are much more run down then they were. The field below my childhood home is now almost entirely filled with weeds and saplings. The home of my youth is now a different color. The home of a childhood friend is boarded up. The church building where my father preached God's word for nearly 30 years, is a decaying husk of a building.

On the other hand, I've been able to spend quality time with my mother, sister, brother-in-law, and nephews. I'll be reconnecting with my brother this evening and two of my mentors from my youth and teen years.

So, a sad time, but full of promise.