Death by Poisoned Oysters
Every weekend for the past couple of months, I've had a long "to do" list, all the way up through yesterday, when I taught the last session of my lace class. I'm so tired of waking up each Saturday and immediately thinking about how to make time for the art, knitting, design, etc. projects I want to accomplish before I go back to work on Monday.
Today I said "to heck with all that." I hopped in the car, headed up to the Montague Bookmill for a bagel and coffee, and began a totally freeform day. I read the paper, I knit, I watched the sky cloud up, then clear, then cloud up again.
I always feel very grounded at the Bookmill, which strikes me as strange given that when you're there you're not on the ground at all but perched above a rushing river:
I discovered that the best time of day to get a seat in the cafe is early in the morning. If you know the place, you know what I mean--on summer weekends it's generally overrun by the Laptop Army, with no seats to be had anywhere, indoors or out. This morning it actually looked like this:
Imagine! There was only one other person--a writer seated at the table behind me. He was writing not on a laptop but with ballpoint pen on looseleaf paper.
From there I drove from Montague through Leverett and up Richardson Road, where I lived for four years, many moons ago. It's a steep dirt road winding through the woods. When it dead ends it meets up with the Metacomet-Monadnock Trail. I used to hike the M&M in all seasons; it was especially beautiful right after a snowfall.
I don't know why, as a Midwestern girl, I feel so at home in the woods of New England. I love the smell of pine needles, the calls of jays and chickadees and woodpeckers, the thrumming of bullfrogs in summer, whipoorwills singing at dusk, big heavy hemlock branches weighed down by snow in winter.
It's been a few years since I last hiked here. Today the pond was swollen by all of our recent rain; sometimes I had to bushwhack where water overran the trail. I reconnected with familiar landmarks:
That stone marker indicates the town line between Leverett and Montague. There was evidence all around of busy beavers:
I took lots of photos of the colors and textures that caught my eye:
After I left the M&M I headed to the Leverett Coop for a quick bite to eat. I couldn't resist photographing this inexplicable string of rubber ducks hanging outside:
Not sure what they were all about! Then I drove at my leisure through Shutesbury all the way to Route 202. Heading south on 202 towards Belchertown, I passed Packardsville Road and suddenly remembered a cemetery there, where I once found a very cool letterbox. I turned around, found the cemetery, and without much trouble located the Oyster Tombstone Letterbox. What a blast from the past! I was the first person to find the box - on October 4, 2003:
The original logbook is still in the box and in good shape after six years. I amassed an impressive collection of mosquito bites on my ankles while I sat on a stone wall and flipped through the book. But it was totally worth it, just to see this unusual tombstone once again and ponder the lives of the people it mentions (click to embiggen and more easily read the story):
Seems like a Stephen King story waiting to be written, doesn't it?
Today I said "to heck with all that." I hopped in the car, headed up to the Montague Bookmill for a bagel and coffee, and began a totally freeform day. I read the paper, I knit, I watched the sky cloud up, then clear, then cloud up again.
I always feel very grounded at the Bookmill, which strikes me as strange given that when you're there you're not on the ground at all but perched above a rushing river:
I discovered that the best time of day to get a seat in the cafe is early in the morning. If you know the place, you know what I mean--on summer weekends it's generally overrun by the Laptop Army, with no seats to be had anywhere, indoors or out. This morning it actually looked like this:
Imagine! There was only one other person--a writer seated at the table behind me. He was writing not on a laptop but with ballpoint pen on looseleaf paper.
From there I drove from Montague through Leverett and up Richardson Road, where I lived for four years, many moons ago. It's a steep dirt road winding through the woods. When it dead ends it meets up with the Metacomet-Monadnock Trail. I used to hike the M&M in all seasons; it was especially beautiful right after a snowfall.
I don't know why, as a Midwestern girl, I feel so at home in the woods of New England. I love the smell of pine needles, the calls of jays and chickadees and woodpeckers, the thrumming of bullfrogs in summer, whipoorwills singing at dusk, big heavy hemlock branches weighed down by snow in winter.
It's been a few years since I last hiked here. Today the pond was swollen by all of our recent rain; sometimes I had to bushwhack where water overran the trail. I reconnected with familiar landmarks:
That stone marker indicates the town line between Leverett and Montague. There was evidence all around of busy beavers:
I took lots of photos of the colors and textures that caught my eye:
After I left the M&M I headed to the Leverett Coop for a quick bite to eat. I couldn't resist photographing this inexplicable string of rubber ducks hanging outside:
Not sure what they were all about! Then I drove at my leisure through Shutesbury all the way to Route 202. Heading south on 202 towards Belchertown, I passed Packardsville Road and suddenly remembered a cemetery there, where I once found a very cool letterbox. I turned around, found the cemetery, and without much trouble located the Oyster Tombstone Letterbox. What a blast from the past! I was the first person to find the box - on October 4, 2003:
The original logbook is still in the box and in good shape after six years. I amassed an impressive collection of mosquito bites on my ankles while I sat on a stone wall and flipped through the book. But it was totally worth it, just to see this unusual tombstone once again and ponder the lives of the people it mentions (click to embiggen and more easily read the story):
Seems like a Stephen King story waiting to be written, doesn't it?
posted by Bonnie at 6/28/2009
6 Comments:
Bonnie: Reading and enjoying your comemts was so wonderful. Loved all the photo's. That is part of New England that I have not seen. Thanks for the tour.
Mom
Beautiful set of photos, Bonnie! I especially loved the texture shots, the walk up the trail and the creepy epitaph. I'd love to know the story behind the ducks too.
Great day, both peaceful and eventful.
That's one creepy epitaph alright! I wonder what the story behind might be...
And behind the duckies, of course.
I drive by that cemetery 4 times a day, I love the broken iron gate. I'm fairly sure that there are at least 2 other men in that cemetery that were married to Warren's wife. She was referred to in town as the Black Widow, 4 dead husbands. Her stone used to be there as well but it was vandalized so often that they ceased to replace it.
What a perfect day! I'm so glad you had a chance to just be...and to follow your heart wherever it took you!
The tombstone struck me as absolutely hilarious for some reason. And I didn't know you letterboxed - which is very cool.
Really enjoyed reading about your "freeform" day! I had a similar day myself recently but unfortunately had to drive 2 hours to get to my mill!
http://www.aberfeldywatermill.com/
Great photos and love your knitted creatures!
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