High St., Dalton MA
J: Walking Dalton Massachusetts, 5 p.m. thru neighborhoods. The smells of dinner cooking in front of the Sears home (built in 1829). Pipe smoke from across at the Emersons on High St. Two boys taking turns spilling each other out of a wagon on the curb. I can smell dryer odor at the corner of High and Park Ave. Clouds moving in on a cool afternoon.
As with the past few days, it's chilly and clouded over - enough to hide the sun. Hiking keeps me warm. A woman walked by and yelled out to me, 'Where ya from?"
"Virginia'
'Oh, that's beautiful down there - we just came back from Charlottesville.'
Was I really at Rockfish Gap on 6/13? Not quite two months ago? This hike seems like it's been my whole life, as if all I've ever done was walk the Trail. All before seems as if from a dream, or a book I once read.
All these people sitting at home in front of the T.V. - waiting for what, Death? Won't it come soon enough? We live with our distractions - devices and inventions to remove our thoughts from our present condition. Our 'technology', our 'news', our cheap affairs and petty cares - soothing our loss of days with pacifiers. Our soaring spirits now come in cans and bottles. Where is our dignity? Walking to free my mind from the murky turbulence offered up as civilized living. A good book now is how to get rich quick; a good movie revolves around infidelity and murder. Wow, what a social mess. But have we changed? Didn't Shakespeare offer his generation the same fare? And see how we value his input. His words are the epitome of English lit.