When I'm working in someone's yard and the sun's beating down, there's always some shade to be found and if my path between the pile and the stack can be partially shaded, you can bet I'll be going that route. Then the sun moves, as it's wont to do. Today was fine, there was none of that energy-sapping humidity in the air. For a month I'd forgotten what humidity felt like, but when I came back east, my hair and skin reminded me. Next to the stack there was an old rusted bicycle built for two.
For a few days I decided to give the truck a break (and me a break from its many quirks) and swap it for the nondescript taupe '98 Camry with the missing hubcap. It's really just trading one set of quirks for another, those are the only kinds of vehicles I've ever driven, but I know I'm lucky to get whatever car's coming down the line to me. Felt the truck suited me better but the car's more fuel efficient for my next spin around the state, this time to visit my brother in Perry. While I was transferring my stuff (I'm like a turtle these days), I received a surprise visit from one of the owners of the art foundry I worked at years ago in Brewster. He'd been mining rocks across the road and we chatted awhile as I examined some other rocks he'd found and polished to a gleam. On the way back to Beacon, I stopped by a classic-car cruise by a diner off the interstate. I cruised the lot, but I prefer to come across them on their own, in whatever shape they happen to be in, and see what beauty I may find there. Another gleam in the evening, that of the nearly full moon reflected on rows of highly buffed hoods.
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