Autumn is settling in, the leaves are crispy underfoot, and the sparkle on the river is courtesy of a sun meeting the trees a little earlier each day. Come walk with me …
The path to the river is thick and overgrown with the remains of summer. It’s just a step over the old, forgotten railroad tracks and through barely matted weeds to the crest overlooking the river’s edge.
Greens become burgundy and slowly drape over a slate walkway.
A faceless wraith overlooking the road to the bridge.
Late afternoon shadows fall across dried leaves, grass, and the road, which runs parallel to the river.
Froggy statuary graces a small garden spot. I am tipping my hat to Portland as I pass.
The Delaware River, looking north, a view that never wears thin, especially when it reflects a sky so insistently blue.
Covered with tombstones, ghosts, and mums, my neighbor’s fence looks even spookier at night with orange and purple lights, a big draw to Halloween night’s trick or treaters.
I never fail to be aware, and grateful, for the beauty and kindness that surrounds me where I live. Especially now. Quality of life counts for a lot.
Still A Dreamer 