Another American Adventure: more weeds and the Internet

Friday, July 9, 2010

more weeds and the Internet

I forgot to add this photo of weeds from Moraine Lake State Park.

I'm intermittently picking up some neighbor's wireless signal now, and don't have to walk down to the clubhouse with Jube - though I was kind of enjoying that little outing. Seems that the Internet is everywhere, you can't disconnect!

Wonderful steady rain this afternoon.

2 comments:

Sally ClayJuly 10, 2010 at 4:33 AM
Hey Beth, it's good to see that you found such a nice apartment, with dogs and people around. I'll look forward to hearing and seeing more about it.
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beth cioffolettiJuly 10, 2010 at 4:41 AM
OK - and looks like I'll be able to keep up with my side of scrabble piggy-backing on my neighbors' wireless signals.
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"In those first days, people said, a squirrel could run the long length of Pennsylvania without ever touching the ground. In those first days, the woods were white oak and chestnut, hickory, maple, sycamore, walnut, wild ash, wild plum, and white pine. The pine grew on the ridgetops where the mountains' lumpy spines stuck up and their skin was thinnest.

"The wilderness was uncanny, unknown. Benjamin Franklin had already invented his stove in Philadelphia by 1753, and Thomas Jefferson was a schoolboy in Virginia; French soldiers had been living in forts along Lake Erie for two generations. But west of the Alleghenies in western Pennsylvania, there was not even a settlement, not even a cabin. No Indians lived there, or even near there.

"Wild grapevines tangled the treetops and shut out the sun. Few songbirds lived in the deep woods. Bright Carolina parakeets - red, green, and yellow - nested in the dark forest. There were ravens then, too. Woodpeckers rattled the big trees' trunks, ruffed grouse whirred their tail feathers in the fall, and every long once in a while a nervous gang of empty-headed turkeys came hustling and kicking through the leaves - but no one heard any of this, no one at all."

Annie Dillard, An American Childhood.