There’s not much prettier than the Catskills in Autumn. It’s magical and once you’ve tasted that magic, it’s hard to forget.
It’s thought by many, particularly tourist bureaus that this was where Washington Irving had in mind for the tale of Rip Van Winkle. Rip was of course that enviable man who climbed up to the falls and took the big nap. When he came back down, it was to a different world.
I’d rather go for a long nap and find myself awakening back in that world, the smell of the leaves, the sun filtering through the trees, children’s laughter in my ears … wait, wrong song. Wrong dream.
The fat old sun is going down hard and for once I dread the night. I envy Rip, though I hate to think of sleeping that long with my current dreams. “Oh the nightmares came today, and it looks as though they’re here to stay.”
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