The next day

The Next Day.

There is always a next day – a next day for everything that we did not cram into the day before….and even then we have items left over that we needed to do but did not have time to do….like this blog!

The Moon last night was very bright and it seemed that I could reach out and touch it….but my arms are not that long – why, they are not even long enough to reach to my grandchildren in Nebraska…so there is no chance I can reach to the moon but I can reach for the moon; No harm in that.

I am in awe of Mother Nature’s way of putting blossoms on what seemed like hopelessly dead trees during the winter with the snow and ice all over them.  The trees in the parking lot next door are sporting foliage that makes the sunlight look green.  Somehow the air even looks cleaner as a result of the sun shining through the leaves.  I have taken lots of pictures of trees covered with blossoms.  There are Apple trees, flowering Crab Apples and some trees that remind me of ornamental Cherry trees.  They are not Japanese style cherry trees because there is no nick in the top of the petal.  We passed through many small towns/villages where there were loads of blossoming trees….but at the speed we were doing all I would get would be a colored blur of a picture.  Each village sported its own cemetery and I would love to have the opportunity to wander through them and look to see how old the headstone is.  I keep forgetting that Maine has been populated for a very long time while Arizona is just celebrating its 100 years of statehood.  In one village we passed through, a church had a landscape feature in front that was one massive carpet of Creeping Flox.  These are wonderful little flowers that come rather stealthily and bloom uproariously loudly and are cheerful and heartwarming and just as quickly as they come, they are gone and we are left with a carpet of green.

Along the roads from time to time there are signs that warn of “Moose Crossing – next 5 miles”.  We laughed together at the fact that the Moose had a designated crossing zone – no zebra stripes on the road like regular crosswalks, but nevertheless, they have a designated crossing zone.  We saw a number of these crossing zone signs between Vermont and our home in Maine, but nary a Moose.  Perhaps it was not a day for them to cross, or they were busy with their children.  Judging by the density of the forests near these crossing zones, I imagine that the Moose would get his antlers all tangled up in the lower branches of the trees.  Perhaps they should choose open field area’s to cross to avoid being tangled in the trees.  The Moose nation should take this up with the people who put up the designated crossing -zone signs.  Anne was concerned that we might run into a moose on the road and to be careful not to crash into them.  So, when I was at Keepsake Quilting, I saw a box of Maple flavored Moose head lollipops and so I bought one for her and gave it to her – telling her that this is the only Moose we ever saw on our travels this weekend.

There are all kinds of signs warning of this or that or advertising events or sites to visit.  In one village we saw a lot of Antique Shop’s with varying types of signs.  One that caught my eye was “Jan’s Junk”.  There were signs advertising boat sales, garage sales, lawn sales, porch sales, school bus stops (never really saw where the kids could stand to catch the bus), Tractor crossing, blind driveways (was the driveway really blind or would we be so blind as to not see it…..English is a rather difficult language to convey messages to each other), trucks entering, no passing and many others.  I like the railroad crossing sign by t he YMCA in Augusta, no train has used these rusting rails for years, but we have to look both ways just in case.  This rail line runs parallel to the walking trail and I wonder what its use might have been in the past.