the ride to stillwater, new jersey. i remember apple orchards on the cusp of blossoming. the fences that separated them from the road. and the fences that separated the training areas for racehorses. i recollect allowing a mother turkey and her chicks to cross. and the spot where we halted and pulled over. because i had to puke up some harmful sugar cookies after a cousin’s christmas pageant. all were memories that we laughed and talked about.
with many of us having grown up or moved as far as georgia or florida. however far any trip, what matters most is at the end of the road.
autumn day moon
what remains in the maple
two neighboring nests