NEW ENGLAND REPORT

BROTHER FRANK TO THE RESCUE ........Just as I was wondering what in the world to write about today and had just about given up, an email arrived with these pictures attached to it.

Photos taken this morning back East  (Western Massachusetts) -- another amazing display thanks to Fred Harwood. 

It brought to mind the two times I've been in New England to witness fall foliage. Once was with a church group. You know how flu can strike you ill suddenly in one moment? That happened to me during lunch one day on the trip and I spent the next two days with my head in Mr. Bob's lap as our bus traveled along country lanes. Every time I opened my eyes it was to the surreal view of passing through a tunnel of blazing red maple leaves. That was the same trip where I saw a Japanese tourist innocently stir his breakfast coffee with a knife. In New York City we were put up in a hotel in the midst of renovations. It was the only time I've ever known Mr. Bob to sleep with his wallet under his pillow. All through the night I heard the bell ring every fifteen minutes on the elevator outside our door and groaning sounds coming from the room on the other side of the wall. The next morning it all made sense when I caught sight of a pair of men's underwear in the standing ashtray. 


It was on the same vacation that as we walked to our hotel after dinner, a teenager snatched a gold necklace off a lady's neck and Mr. Bob took pursuit on foot losing the race, of course, as he was no match for a street smart New York hoodlum. He declined the next time an opportunity to go to the Big Apple arose.

The other autumn trip was  a cruise from Montreal through the Maritime Provinces around to New York City, with a stop in Bar Harbor, Maine. The fall colors absolutely blazed in that little community and I remember after a tour of Acadia National Park, walking into town as the small shops were preparing to close for the winter (what an attractive idea to a retailer!) and we ate delicious lobster rolls in an upstairs room of a restaurant. 


That was in the days of film and any pictures we took are hidden too far away to find. I'm really very tired of our 30,892 photos that live currently on our computer. One of these days I must master the scanner which came housed inside the sophisticated printer Mr. Bob chose to buy when our old one gave out. Then we'll have something new to view and won't that be a nice change?


"Each man reads his own meaning into New York."                                                     
                   Meyer Berger