Worst traffic ever. Even worse than the last time I complained about the traffic from New York to Massachusetts. Two hours from Brooklyn to the start of the Merritt, and another four by the time we finally unfolded ourselves from the car. But. We unfolded ourselves from our car at our close close friends Pamela and David's spectacularly beautiful farm, and even though I couldn't see the sheep, I could hear their bells, and even though I couldn't see the peacock, I could hear its call. And even though I couldn't see the lilacs, I could smell their fragrance, and even though I couldn't smell the apple blossoms, thee they were.
And even though it was 9:30 PM (and there are no street lights where I grew up) I invited everyone out for a walk, and Josh and Pam said yes, and out we went with Tetley the best dog ever, up the road I grew up on, our path lit by diffuse cloudy moonlight, through birdcall and blossom fragrance, into the night.
This is a photo of the morning (sort of cheating; it's from the next day) just to give you an idea of why I love my hometown so much.