Smells fisheye.
This lens could spiral into redundancy.
The distortions remind me
of my own peripheral vision,
which blurs at the edges,
is blind to what should be focused,
as it focuses
on peripherals.
The Catskills.
A mere four hour drive is enough these days to cause rejoice when my destination appears through road weary eyes. Especially when that aim is as majestic as Spillian . After a brief tour we were shown our room . A few moments of peace were granted before the celebrations. We were allowed full access to the kitchen facilities so the visiting chef from Maine could continue our traditional lobster and cob feast. Our stomachs sated, we conversed to catch up and to reminisce. A short stroll to the meadow set the stage for family and friendships rekindled lasting to evenings end. The misty dawn awoke us gently, slowly; easing us each into the day at our own desired pace. NEXT: A walk in the Catskills.
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