Sojourn to the Berkshires Day 2 -- some walks, a dinner, and a play

 OKAY! I'm in the Albany NY Airport, and I've found a perch at the terminal walkway bar table  counter, on a stool with a nice draft local hazy IPA beside my laptop. I have 3 1/2 hours before my flight to DC boards, but I did save a little $ on Bruno the Purple Charger by getting it in a bit earlier than the reservation. 

Yesterday morning I slept in until around 7, grabbed a decent and filling "free" breakfast in the motel lobby, then drove out to the theater to make sure I knew where I was going when I had a curtain time to honor. It's a good thing, because pulling out of the parking lot I went rogue on Waze directions and found a shortcut that bypassed all of the roadwork that slowed down my drive there. I made a note to go out without cell phone directions and to turn on Tacatonic Road to get there that evening. That night, after the play, I drove out at waning dusk onto the road bordered by fields of high wild grasses and lit by more fireflies than I have ever seen in one place. I almost pulled over to video, but decided to save the image in my old brain instead. 

As I have shared before, my mantra is "I am good, I am well, I am healthy I am Happy I am whole." Yesterday I changed this to "Healing Seamus Seamus Healing" and will continue utilizing that for the immediate future. He is healing and he is home from the hospital as of last night, but I figure anything I can do, you know, on the spiritual plane... The benefit of this tack, as opposed to praying, is that no deity, no higher power, needs to hear and respond. I am certain it is at least as effective. After all, if there is one God, she must be checking those mantras, right?

Okay, I'm getting all non-linear again. Jimmy and I talked about that at breakfast this morning. He cam to the hotel and we took Bruno ("because your car is cooler") up less than a mile up the road and ate outside at the Rio Cafe. Really good stuffThanks for breakfast, buddy, if you're reading this. Who is linear anyway? "Oh, there's a dandilion. Oh, that thing I did in high school." Right? But. That discussion was today, and we were talking about yesterday.

Let's pop in a picture to break things up, shall we?

After breakfast see ya later hug at the Rio Cafe

Okay then. After leaving the theater on my scouting mission, I hit downtown again, and found a place to park at an entry point to River Walk, an attraction that came up early in my searches. It was attractive enough, and everyone needs to see it, but it turned out to be only maybe a city block long. I took some video along the way, and a couple pics--note the two of a dark barn with a bright little something in its darkest region, then the close up. Class, folks, that's class. I wish I'd got a pic of the road-facing wall of the building. It's just an old barn with two big doors and nothing else, but I can imagine families starting here, on a cool fall night with the disco ball fracking the room.

I walked the little downtown, saw some cute shops, refrained from buying art at some really inspirational studios, took a pano from a corner, and noted the location of The Well, a restaurant and bar I had my sights set on for the next night's preshow dinner. 

Okay again. First little thing after my scouting and my Riverwalk aside was to head up to Housatonic Flats. I pulled into the parking lot with only one more car there. It's been quiet in GB during my stay. Jimmy says they are getting big weekend tourist hits, but luckily my stay was Wed-Fri. Here's Bruno at the trailhead. I was hoping it was a bit longer than a city block. But, it calmed me down nicely. 

Bruno the Purple Charger at the trailhead

I checked my shoelaces and hit the trail. 

Trailhead at Housatonic Flats

Flats sign with explanation. It's a buffer, ya'll.

Trailhead sign closer and clearer

First bench stop with an aside trail to the river

Two dandelions

Pano at the river, click to enlarge-o

I just liked the color here and think it might be fun to paint

And a video... Ducks, ya'll...

It was a quiet, wonderful walk. The trees are taller, older, up here, I think. And the tall wildflowers grow taller before they dry and turn to seed, as they are doing in Tennessee as I type. I just cut mine down in my little back "yard," though I really enjoyed the Queen Ann's Lace and the tall clover that I let run out its time in my "meadow," as I like to call it.

I drove back to the motel and after an hour in the pool with an intervening hot tub soak (excellent power in those jets, Fairfield Inn by Marriot). I took a nap. I got into my nap by meditating on my new mantra, "Healing Seamus Seamus healing." With the help of a phone alarm (I left my iWatch charging at home. I hope it's good for it) I got up, showered, dressed, and drove.

At the Great Barrington Community Theater, Bard College Daniels Cultural Center (say that three times really fast), I parked and moseyed inside, where my ticket was awaiting me. I jacked into the play, which I thoroughly enjoyed and believe is going places, but will not review here. No photos were allowed after I took this one 

of a couple audience members (Sandy and friend, as I found out later) awaited the dimming of the lights. Turns out it was a preview performance with opening night tonight (as I write from the airport). There were only about 20 of us in the small theater audience. That's all good. It was spectacular, and intimate, and I enjoyed emersion in the world I only peripherally experienced. Jimmy called me the day of the diagnosis. I remember it so clearly--I was helping a kindergarten teacher, Mary McCullough, set up her classroom printer and begged off that to go to a corner of her bright, welcoming, kindergarten classroom to talk and to weep a bit. I do that, and it was certainly all right to do that day. From my perspective as a retired human person, I now know that the right thing to do was to fly out there. I did not. I wish I had. Jimmy and I have talked over the years, and I didn't get far from Seamus's recovery, but neither did I really get close to it. Regrets. And healing, which this trip generated, at least a little.

"Leave your Fears Here" is  a "Rememberer" play, a Father play, and a play everyone should experience. I got to meet both Robert Egan and Michael O'Keefe, sat next to Michael for the preview performance. More on all that later. 

That's freakin' it! I'm ready to fly om the morning. I am ready to be home. I love you, Jimmy. Keep plugging into that impressive piece of writing you've created and bringing it alive. You are going to awaken a whole new audience to this kind of journey and its kaleidoscopic complexities and contradictions, and to your beautiful son, to your beautiful soul mate, and to your beautiful self. I love you.