Not Doing

Yesterday was bleak and grey, but I went tromping anyway to prove my virtue to whatever invisible spy in the sky.





Now that the trees are bare, you get an unobstructed view of the Vanderbilt Mansion from the path along the river.

I think it’s hideous. No attempt whatsoever to fit the structure to the landscape. Sort of as though you’d plopped down a miniature Grand Central Station in the middle of nowhere:



Other than tromping, I did absolutely nothing that could be described as productive, and I enjoyed myself not doing it.

The next few months are gonna be all about enjoying whatever I decide not to do.

Sounds easy, right?

It won’t be.