Took a trip to New York State yesterday to see the hippies,
two hours plus up, slightly less coming back with about five hours wandering
around the small village and the nearby animal sanctuary.
The trip had nothing to do with her though I knew she had
spent some time living there. I walked up and down the few streets, snapping
pictures as if in a museum for the 1960s and of a life nobody could actually
live any more.
She had talked about her life there, caught up with the daughter
of the owner of a popular restaurant, something – after the relationship soured
– propelled her into the food industry with the aim of becoming a chef perhaps.
She has the ability to hook up with people who can further
her aims – a puzzle why she bothered with me since I could not.
I had come to this place before, wandered these streets,
poked my head into these psychedelic shops, snapping pictures up and down and
around – often hanging out by the tied dyed shirt and jewelry displays near the
yellow chamber of commerce building just off the main drag.
The man selling jewelry waved me over, and said, “You know
you walk with God, don’t you?”
I thought he was selling me religion and I tried to brush
him off, but he clung to my arm and said, “no, really.”
It was an observation, not a sales pitch. I thought about it
all the way home. I posted a poem about it along with a bunch of photos,
wondering what it all meant, thinking maybe this was some kind of sign of changing
fortune, renewed hope. I suppose it is a good thing walking with God.
No comments:
Post a Comment