Every day in the afternoon Eric and I go for a drive out of the house. Driving has two purposes: dragging me out of my tendency to remain within the perimeter of our property, and giving Eric an opportunity to play with his new toy – an electric car that has every computerized feature you can think of and rides silently and smoothly.
A few days ago, Eric asked me if I wanted to go to Long Dock. Long Dock is a park by the river built by Scenic Hudson (a non-profit organization whose goal is the beautification of the Hudson Valley) on land reclaimed from the river. I agreed right away; I had great memories of our last visit there not long ago, a visit that had been cut off suddenly. When the temperature had gone down and it was time to go, two new passengers had been added – Nathan and Mickey. Nathan would walk the dog and join us for the trip back home. When we got to the park, Eric searched for the shady corner where we’d sat before, and Nathan set out with Mickey, leash on hand.
The spot was full of bright green grass and surrounded by rocks. If you looked ahead, you could see the river, gray and quiet, that reached the shore in small waves speckled with foam. Covered with thick vegetation, Denning’s Point’s tongue protruded into the water. In it were scattered wooden pylons, the remnants of an old, dilapidated pier. Eric showed me a cormorant sitting on a rock, ready to take off. Then I saw him spread its wings and fly, skimming the water. The color of the river changed to blue and then to gray again. A young man moved forward on his paddle board. He was standing straight, gripping a paddle that was level with the river.
Nathan arrived with Mickey and leaned on a rock, holding the leash. Families were sitting far away and chatting in low voices. A cool breeze blew by. I wanted to stay forever staring at the water, but it was getting late. Oh well, there always would be another time.
A few days ago, Eric asked me if I wanted to go to Long Dock. Long Dock is a park by the river built by Scenic Hudson (a non-profit organization whose goal is the beautification of the Hudson Valley) on land reclaimed from the river. I agreed right away; I had great memories of our last visit there not long ago, a visit that had been cut off suddenly. When the temperature had gone down and it was time to go, two new passengers had been added – Nathan and Mickey. Nathan would walk the dog and join us for the trip back home. When we got to the park, Eric searched for the shady corner where we’d sat before, and Nathan set out with Mickey, leash on hand.
The spot was full of bright green grass and surrounded by rocks. If you looked ahead, you could see the river, gray and quiet, that reached the shore in small waves speckled with foam. Covered with thick vegetation, Denning’s Point’s tongue protruded into the water. In it were scattered wooden pylons, the remnants of an old, dilapidated pier. Eric showed me a cormorant sitting on a rock, ready to take off. Then I saw him spread its wings and fly, skimming the water. The color of the river changed to blue and then to gray again. A young man moved forward on his paddle board. He was standing straight, gripping a paddle that was level with the river.
Nathan arrived with Mickey and leaned on a rock, holding the leash. Families were sitting far away and chatting in low voices. A cool breeze blew by. I wanted to stay forever staring at the water, but it was getting late. Oh well, there always would be another time.
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