Johnny and I went walking along the Mianus River in my wife’s hometown, Bedford NY. We heard the howling gobble of a wild tom turkey on the mountain. The pleas of a hen on the other side of the river. The teach teach teach of the ovenbird. Johnny called titmice down to him.
An old apple tree bloomed lipstick red by the river. Shy fiddleheads tested the air. We chewed garlic mustard leaves and sassafras twigs. We drank water from an old iron pump set deep in the rock in the land of Ichabod Crane and Rip van Winkle.
We’re bringing a carload of fresh northern air and hot southern music to Brooklyn tonight. Tell your friends: