Last week, I said this year's foliage seemed less colorful than that of previous years. Well, it seems that I picked the wrong week to complain. I saw some more color during a ride I took--to Connecticut--on Thursday, and even more about 50 kilometers north of the city.
Bill and I rode along the South County Trail, which begins in Van Cortlandt Park, near the Bronx-Westchester border, and continues parallel to the Hudson River. Parts of it follow the Saw Mill River. In some places, it looks more like a drainage canal than a river; in other spots, it's a turbid pool. But, believe it or not, there are rapids and falls--and, even better, scenes like thesw.
Most of the trail is paved or hard-packed dirt. But the part in Van Cortlandt seems to have been mud since the beginning of time. There was a time when I would have said that getting myself muddied up, or sweaty, made me "deserving" of the beauty I saw around me. But, the other day, the mud was simply another part of the picture, if you will.
Because of the marathon, we started later than we'd planned: So many streets were closed that we had trouble navigating our way to our meeting point. The part of Queens where I live was effectively cut off from Brooklyn, and the bridges and streets where people were allowed to circulate freely were full.
Not only did we start late, we had less daylight to work with because Daylight Savings Time ended. The day ended early, but at least, in Sleepy Hollow (a.k.a. Tarrytown), we saw this:
Bill and I rode along the South County Trail, which begins in Van Cortlandt Park, near the Bronx-Westchester border, and continues parallel to the Hudson River. Parts of it follow the Saw Mill River. In some places, it looks more like a drainage canal than a river; in other spots, it's a turbid pool. But, believe it or not, there are rapids and falls--and, even better, scenes like thesw.
Most of the trail is paved or hard-packed dirt. But the part in Van Cortlandt seems to have been mud since the beginning of time. There was a time when I would have said that getting myself muddied up, or sweaty, made me "deserving" of the beauty I saw around me. But, the other day, the mud was simply another part of the picture, if you will.
Because of the marathon, we started later than we'd planned: So many streets were closed that we had trouble navigating our way to our meeting point. The part of Queens where I live was effectively cut off from Brooklyn, and the bridges and streets where people were allowed to circulate freely were full.
Not only did we start late, we had less daylight to work with because Daylight Savings Time ended. The day ended early, but at least, in Sleepy Hollow (a.k.a. Tarrytown), we saw this:
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