TO A WEDDING, BY TRAIN, NORTH OF NEW YORK

The days are long -- the years are short

Years ago, at his Santa Monica house, Willy beat me at a game of checkers

Willy was 4 years old

THE VIEW FROM THE TRAIN AT A DISTANCE FROM MANHATTAN

Last week  Willy and Lindsay were married in Connecticut

Willy is 30 years old

Our families have been good friends for years.

Priscilla and I  flew to New York and took the train to be at the ceremony in Connecticut.

Two hours on the train can be a chance for fleeting glances of backyards

Backyards not unlike my youth in Boston

Somehow on my visits to this part of the world I’m always aware of the texture of lawns and tree grown hillsides and stone walls without concrete, and so much space between dwellings. A calm landscape where nature has been subdued in a gentle way.

Not California nor Colorado where nature is still in control.  Comforting, but perhaps in a somniferous way.

Behind the colonial house where we stayed, was a river, a river again, and a tempting canoe. But it was too cold.

We walked a mile or so to the place of the wedding - Past a brick sided elementary school with a sign on the lawn seeking “Substitute teachers: $ 115 to $ 125 a day ”. A gas station with very expensive gasoline.

And trees, green leafed trees. Trees were everywhere, hiding some mystery beyond

It was a chilly day but… The joy and warmth of Willy and Lindsay, their families and all the wedding guests overcame the weather.

All the years between

Children becoming adults, leaving home.

The days were long, but the years were short

The river was still there

It was Priscilla’s birthday tomorrow - so we took another train back to New York.

I certainly didn’t want to challenge Willy to another checkers match, or any other kind of match.