The wagon rattled its way down the incline, a narrow lane that snaked its way through the forested pass. Two men flanked the wagon, another in the driver’s seat. They laboured under a slate grey sky, the diffuse light adding a dripping richness to the leaves of the autumnal trees, a violent blaze of gold and red. Hunger gnawed in their bellies, and they eagerly looked forward to their sundown rendezvous with the trading post vittles.
The sharp brittle crack of a twig snapping, sharp and distinct and from within the tree-line. Left of the wagon, one of the men sprung up his hand and shot a glance at the driver, who tugged on the reins and brought the wagon to a stop. The man unslung his Springfield rifle, tugged the wide brimmed hat tight over his scalp and narrowed his eyes in the direction of the trees.
The horses, grateful of the brief respite, panted and snorted, pawing the ground. A further rustling in the trees, branches that moved, bushes that shook; the man raised his rifle and squinted down the gunsight. A bead of sweat glistened on his forehead.
A man crashed out of foliage. “Hahwo!!” he cried in greeting, albeit in a slightly retarded mild Yorkshire accent, waving a camera tripod.
There was a blaze of gunfire.
***
Yes! Tomorrow I begin my two week holiday.
Pennsylvania, with the old heart of steel production Pittsburgh first, then the wee town of Bradford near the New York State border. Reckon I’ll go and see the Andy Warhol museum, and go visit the Church of Beer. Then hopefully I can cling to the remainer of the fall leaves display, which I increasingly fear I may miss out on as they have already hit peak colour a little early.
There may be some Civil War battlefield visiting, maybe a trip to Niagra and there will be a lot of small town Americana photography. Stephen Shore shall be my inspiration. I also plan on driking lots of American beer.
Hopefully I’ll be able to keep y’all updated through my auntie and uncle’s computer-ma-jig. Photos and thoughts will be posted in this thread, probably in an incredibly sporadic and tardy way.
Anyway, London and board games at my mate Martin’s tomorrow night, and then I fly out 12:30 midday Monday. Hoo-rah!
_________________ "Peter you've lost the NEWS!"
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