When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloomed

                                                                                                                                                   

       It feels great to be on the road again!  The last few days were spent driving through the Berkshires and New York state on Route 20.   Most of this road is designated a Scenic Byway, traveling up and down mountains, past farmland, and skimming the tops of the Finger Lakes.

The weather started out quite chilly, but there were signs of spring everywhere. The lilacs and honeysuckle were both in bloom and so fragrant that their perfume drifted in through the open van windows as we drove.  In Shelbourne Falls, Massachusetts we stopped to walk across the Bridge of Flowers, which is an old bridge that has been converted into a beautiful  garden, full of spring blooms and maintained by volunteers and small donations.

In the Finger Lakes, we hiked in the Finger Lakes National Forest on a trail we accessed by a dirt road.  I had no idea that just a few short miles from the wine trails of Lake Cayuga and Lake Seneca was such a quiet, peaceful place.  Mostly wooded, a short patch of trail by a pond was sunny enough to attract many of the area’s snakes who reluctantly got out our way when encouraged.

The wineries are accepting visitors with few Covid restrictions.  I suppose that could change if the summer surge we are in continues.  It seems that the wineries that are in the primary business of making wine did well the past few years.  The ones with a heavy reliance on event hosting and food service struggled more but seem to be back in full swing hosting graduation celebrations and bridal showers.

We had one very warm day before the chilly, wet weather returned.  While we were home, Tom put an outlet on the outside of the van so that when we have a site that has electric, we can plug in an electric blanket on cold nights. The electric system in the van can’t support the power needs of the blanket without quickly draining the battery. This was a suggestion from a lovely lady we met in Florida, and it has worked really well on these very cold nights.  It is hard to leave that cozy warmth in the morning, however.

We are now in Northern Ohio, right by Lake Erie.  It must have really stormed last night. The site next to ours has a couple of ducks swimming under the picnic table. Many of the sites are under water to a large extent.

Just a note- the title for this entry was something that popped into my head from over 40 years ago when I saw all the lilacs in bloom this week.  It is the title and first line of a Walt Whitman poem lamenting the death of Lincoln. I believe even though it is taught in most high school English classes, few have read it (thanks to Cliff notes and Wikipedia) and fewer would have understood it ( if not for Cliff notes and Wikipedia).  It is about loss, mourning and rebirth with a prophetic star tossed in there for good measure.  This memory brought up several things for me, but most importantly the irony of being able to remember this and forget what I had for breakfast this morning. Tom and I rely on each other to remember what the other forgets.  If we both let it slip our minds, it is gone forever.

Enjoy whatever season you are in today. Tomorrow I’m sure will be the opposite. And may we all be like the ducks under the picnic table making the very best of their current situation.