Road Trip! Carole King! James Taylor! Fireworks!

Ayup, it was a very full weekend, to say the least. Along the way to and from Massachusetts we drove along the Mohawk Trail, a back road that alternates between deep woods, Berkshire revealing vistas, funky road sights and starts all over again. Even the interstates held beautiful views but not like the Trail. There were places you really did expect to see Indians walking in the woods. From a 150 years ago, not the ones in the Indian shops...

Carole King and James Taylor were...perfection. Their voices couldn't have sounded more true than if they'd been taken to the studio for a wash and shine, the acoustics of the Tanglewood Shed surrounded us with a sound pure and clear. Giant screens and binoculars helped with seeing the small images on stage and the stage presence of these two, along with the rest of the band, was incredibly touching - a genuine enjoyment and mutual respect fest going on between them and shared with the rest of us. Sort of like a fun evening with 15,000 or more guests hanging out. It was...a bliss life experience. And I'm still smiling.

I didn't bring my camera into the venue but there are a few pics on a cell phone I'm borrowing from Laurie. Now all I have to do is learn how to get them OFF the cell phone to my computer. Life mystery #-7890651.

 We stayed in a motel called the Wagon Wheel. And here was the wheel...sort of behind the rest of the place. They had a great veggie garden going - peppers, tomatoes, squash, scallions, flowers, as Neil pointed out. It was clean...and a little weird, but not in a bad way.

Thanks, Neil!

Heading out of town, Laurie pointed out a building they'd seen on their coffee run earlier. It might have been the most weird and wonderful thing on the whole trip. Yep, it is right up there...

Another thing we did on the way home was hit an antique car show. This particular one has been held for 25 years, so they have the rhythm down. They hold it in this park that should be spelled with a capital P; rolling hills leading down to a gorgeous lake can't be more Parkier. Being the 4th of July we had an homage to America moment, along with a DJ playing lots of great classic rock and roll. And the cars were pretty all right too!

 

We got back in time for fireworks. Both locals and visitors turned out to line the wharfs and docks of Boothbay Harbor, while in the background a band consisting of seniors played American anthems with fine patriotic intent and passion, if not brilliant execution. 

I listened to what still brings me to almost teary joy, children ooohhing and ahhing, their parents taking in the pleasure. One little girl, listening to her babe-in-arms sibling cry softly, turned to her father and asked, "Daddy, was I scared of fireworks when I was a baby?" Of course, the answer was no. In a couple of days steeped in memories of so many ages and times in my life, it brought back clearly my own children, small and awed by the magic of fireworks.

There really is something about the Fourth of July...especially when you get to spend part of it on an old Indian Trail, after getting to see the genesis of the modern vehicles we drive all over this country today. Made in the USA - indeed.

There was much and much and much. Enough of a road trip to get it out of my system for awhile...six hours and more, enough to make my butt fall asleep, even if gawking at every little thing passed kept the rest of me awake. But all day, my mind wandered far south and to the east, out past the shores of Culebra to Dakity, to a certain purple houseboat where I knew good times were being had by all. Francie confirmed it was a great party, but I already knew that. Now...where are my photos????!!!!!