… cloudy, dark, windy… car plastered with pine needles…

… at the Roundhouse i stop on the bridge over Fishkill Creek and thrill to the raging rapids… heavy rain yesterday, heavy rapids today… i like to think of the spot as a cosmic destructive/creative rip in the time/space continuum… one of countless numbers in the cosmos…

… a distant drumming, as if someone were banging on the bottom of a giant plastic bucket…

… siting by the side of Fishkill Creek… banks normally walkable are flooded…

… now sitting on a bench across the street from the falls… this bench is notable for an attractive and friendly young woman who sits here with her dog in the early morning…