very little thinking

It seems like lately whenever it’s time to head out of town I head to the woods.  This time we drove to Connecticut, camped along the way and once we got there stayed at our friend’s 18th century farm house out in the middle of rolling fields.  My head is mighty clear from all the walking and staring mindlessly into space.  I didn’t think about much at all.

On the last night of our trip we camped a few miles off the highway in the Shenandoah Valley.  Our tent was pitched a few feet from a rushing stream under pine trees with very few people around.  I could have stayed there in that spot another week.  That’s the plan for next August.

I felt a little guilty not going to any museums.  We weren’t far from the Dia Beacon and Mass MoCA, but when it came down to it I just wanted to hoof trails.  This is my friend’s father’s painting. I looked at it a lot the few days we were there and have thought about it many times since.  It was really the only painting I needed to see.