Misadventures of the Monster Librarian

Caught up with a friend who is doing conservation work for the government in the U.P., Michigan; he shares stories and pictures of the beauty that is the U.P. at this time of year, and I can't help but be envious. I miss the abounding nature of the Farm; my solitary walks, reveling in this season: the loud early mornings I shared with the birds; the hopes of spotting a bear; the deer who ate abundant grasses in a nearby field, who looked on as I tended a garden of my own making; the river meandering along familiar paths...*sigh* Thinking back to this time last year, driving north with B1&B2, bound from the Farm in MA to Acadia National Park, Maine. I have such vivid pictures of that place in my mind and am recalling those a lot these days as I fantasize about sneaking away to somewhere where I can again get lost in a summer afternoon's walk.  Until then I will live vicariously through Uncle Walt: "...Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt;...

And since I am still moving and haven't had time to write more, here is another gem. Re-stumbled upon this tonight.     From "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry" ...The impalpable sustenance of me from all things at all hours of the day, The simple, compact, well-join'd scheme, myself disintegrated, every one disintegrated yet part of the scheme, The similitudes of the past and those of the future, The glories strung like beads on my smallest sights and hearings, on the walk in the street and the passage over the river, The current rushing so swiftly and swimming with me far away, The others that are to follow me, the ties between me and them, The certainty of others, the life, love, sight, hearing of others. Others will enter the gates of the ferry and cross from shore to shore, Others will watch the run of the flood-tide, Others will see the shipping of Manhattan north and west, and the heights of Brooklyn to the south and east, Others will see the islands lar...