Yesterday, I rode shotgun with Joe, as he delivered Christmas gifts over a large span of wintry territory. We waved a happy au revoir to Frosty who resides atop the custard stand, behind Danny's in Wurtsboro. This in case you want to see for yourself.
Just across the border in Montague, New Jersey, we found Mr. Ed et al. The resident trotters clearly provided a perfect change of pace - pun intended - from hectic holiday preparations. I just can't tell you how in love I am with horses. It would have been my choice to stay there for the remainder of the day, but duty called us back to the home state… through the gorgeous rolling hills of Goshen and as far as Washingtonville. Only locals can appreciate the distance covered. Oooh-kay…
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| Peekaboo! |
Old Sol was already setting in eastern villages, when it was time to head home. Still, there was hope for more color to the west.
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| Washingtonville Yellows |
Once again, good old Wurtsboro and the Bashakill provided just the through-the-windshield span I was hoping for. The earlier palette had magically turned to amazing pinks and blues. Sunrises and sets are simply gifts that keep on giving.
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| Bashakill Pinks |
Except for the fact that Joe completely forgot our plans to stop for lunch in Port Jervis at the Erie Pub, it was a nice day. A little inside joke here, for which I apologize. Thanks, Honey. ♡
