I have said it here before: if Bush wins, I’m going into hiding.
Actually, I’ll be moving whether or not Bush wins, going to place that’s perfect for hiding. If Kerry wins, all the better because it’s part of a college town that has a young progressive mayor and sidewalk stores that still sell tie-dyed clothes. So, I win, either way.
Autumn is vibrant in the Northeast. Yesterday, I drove down the road I will travel, toward the Catskill escarpment at the foot of which I will reside, to let my mother enjoy the peaking leaves, glowing despite the cloudy skies.

We turn up the side road that meanders past thickly wooded lots where various artists, homemakers, and others who find their peace in nature have settled in. Possum live here. Possum and rabbits and deer. The sky starts to clear, and the foliage glistens.

We can see the stoney ridge more clearly now, jutting up from behind the thick stands of trees. We don’t notice any rock climbers today, although they often arrive in droves, their voices echoing from ridge to hill

We turn in the driveway that snakes to my brother’s house. I can barely see it behind the trees. I can’t see it at all in the picture. Such sweet solitude.

No matter what happens with the election, I’m looking forward to changing the view from my window from this:

to this:

I don’t know if my mother will be as happy with the move as I. But I figure that I gave her five years of my life as her sole caregiver in an environment that was confining and depressing. I’ll be glad to give her five more years, but this time with help and the comfort of stone that has not been poured and set at right angles. And then there are the trees.