Tarmac ribbons criss-crossing the landscape, dusty back roads twisting between the cool shadows of ancient pines, and less traveled pathways connecting present to past, all I wander, seeking, seeing, with my keyboard and camera capturing scenes and stories to share with you.

Now in its seventh year, this venue has become an important part of my life, a place where I can express my thoughts and feelings about the things I see and do, hoping the process brings me a bit closer to friends and family who enjoy sharing my sometimes chaotic and often nonlinear observations and ideas. A journal, I suppose, but one with which I find pleasure in thinking others are alongside me on my journey.

Comments, thoughts, or just a friendly chat, use the response box below or email me at patrickgroleau@gmail.com.

October 18, 2013

ONE OF MY ROADS

... another beautiful late autumn day, quite possibly the result of winter and fall conspiring to tease us a bit, but i'll not complain ... as i was heading out robert was coming in to work ... from across the parking lot i could see the look on his face, "you're not going to stop until they plow you in, are you" ... as they say in these parts, "ayuh, you betcha by gory" ...

... i stopped in norridgewock to walk out onto the railroad trestle for a view of the new bridge spanning the kennebec river ... i'm always conflicted when i see this structure ... built to be larger but visually similar in appearance to the worn-out w.p.a. bridge it replaced, i admire how its mathematical elegance reflects an age of the reinforced concrete sublime, but as a taxpayer i sometimes wish they'd just connected the banks of the river with a roadbed atop two giant steel beams and used the money saved to repair others of the numerous bridges in maine which are falling apart ... still, you have to admit, it is pretty ...

... rather clumsy walking in my heavy-soled riding boots, perhaps was not the best of ideas to walk out on the railroad bridge ... i always wonder, is there some sort of technical reason the ties are positioned as they are, or is it that the first person to build a railroad spaced them exactly 3/4 paces apart, chuckling all the while, "they may not remember me, but forever they'll be stumbling and tripping because of how i measured" ...

... there are great gothic cathedrals with their stained glass curtain windows, and there is walking along a line of rails through a new england forest in late fall ...

... this is a landscape typical of my wanderings ... a cup of coffee or tea to the first of you who can identify the location ...

 ... sometimes it's just that i look up ...

... or i pull over ...

... and my wanderabout becomes a walkabout ...

... i stopped at the grocery store on the way home ... three cheers for my sidebags, thirty-one liters each ... carl and jane came over for supper ... charred steak quesadillas, they asked for seconds, and key-lime whatever that all by myself i made right from the box, which they also liked ...

... what a wonderful day ...