The Summer Ends

I seem to be ending the month as I began it: shivering. The strange part about this is that only two days before - both then, as I sat sketching on the porch of a little cabin up in Old Forge and now, in the fading light of my apartment - it was boiling hot out. But in true upstate New York fashion, you never can tell what the weather will do. Just like life, I suppose. 

What a serene and silent spot that was. I realized, both suddenly and sadly, that I had forgotten what it was like to be in such a place (we used to live far, far downstate, smack-bang in the middle of Sterling Forest, where it sometimes seemed that there were more salamanders around than people). I have such vivid memories of that time, and so it was not without some disgust that I wondered, "Have I become so used to living in a suburb? Could I not live that kind of small-town life again?" 

We also visited the Adirondack Museum, at Blue Mountain. What a place. It is a sort of interactive museum-gallery and enormous-educational-experience all rolled into one. I can't recommend it enough. All I will say after leaving there is that I thank the heavens that I was not born a logger in the 19th century. Nope. Nor the wife of one nor the carthorse of one. How hardy everyone had to be back then....

But anyways. Now with The Colder Months ahead of us, and largely thanks to a few artist and writer friends, I'm feeling quite inspired to start up the Lapsed Blog again. The time gets away from me so easily...that I felt very certainly and sharply this month. 

So good-bye, late-summer, you wistful thing. You were a funny sort of sometimes-sad adventure. We saw Ships, some waterfalls, almost teetered at the edge of a cliff, travelled to moose-territory-part-of-the-state, went to THE hardware store, didn't catch a crab, and managed to make it out alive. 

US Brig Niagara, at the Port of Rochester

I look forward to October.