For those who are keeping track:
That concludes the travelogue portion of this post. There are thousands of words to go with these cryptic images but they are as yet unprocessed and unsorted like a week’s camp laundry. Minerva is moving again after a two week hiatus. She was quite ignominiously left in a driveway while her compadres and the owl visited some geographic places not suited to her robust girth and stature. The gas swallowing mini mountains of the Berkshires, the tight lipped, tight turns of Connecticut intrastates, the unimaginable vista of 12 lanes of traffic flowing in both directions in a high speed merge onto the Garden State Parkway. Even with her best “Minerva-ing” this is not her world.
There are tree stories, ghost stories and owl stories and people we have met. There are the places under the places; like last night’s campsite that once held German POWs from WWII. These stories are waiting for the cool long shadows of tall trees hold the magic of things that move slowly gently and in their own time.