With a song in my heart

Posted 8/21/12

Nostalgia reigned supreme last week as I wended my way throughout the Upper Delaware River region in search of spots to photograph the ever-changing array of color that has enveloped the Catskills …

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With a song in my heart

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Nostalgia reigned supreme last week as I wended my way throughout the Upper Delaware River region in search of spots to photograph the ever-changing array of color that has enveloped the Catskills over the last 10 days. Constantly pulling over to the side of the road, I stopped, marveled and clicked my way through Pennsylvania and New York, making my way to Barryville, Milford, Shohola, Livingston Manor, Youngsville, Monticello and beyond. Waxing rhapsodic, I heard Nat King Cole’s soothing voice in my head: “The falling leaves drift by my window, the autumn leaves, of red and gold…” Lost in thought and enjoying the scenery, I whispered those words to the dog, just before the flashing lights in my rear view mirror snapped me out of my reverie.

“Where are you off to, Jonathan?” the officer asked after pulling me over. “Aren’t you driving a little slow?” Handing him my license and registration, I informed New York’s finest that we were on our way to the Barryville Butterfly Bike Ride and Seed Toss and that I was enjoying the scenery en route. “Too slow?” I asked. “Really? That’s a first,” I said, pointing to my camera. “It’s just too beautiful for words. Am I getting a ticket for driving too slow?” My voice may have raised an octave or two while asking if I was actually going to be punished for taking a leisurely drive. He shook his head no, but suggested that I pick it up a bit, especially if there were others behind me. Properly admonished, I put pedal to metal and set up my tripod in anticipation of the bike riders that were scheduled to pass my way.

Recalling that the Byway had been voted to be “the best fall foliage ride in the Northeast” last year, I scanned the horizon and couldn’t help but agree. Bikes festooned with decorations snaked their way past me and seed discs were tossed, paving the way for future generations of pollinators, without whom, chocolate (according to the brochure) would not exist. “Can’t have that,” I thought, as Sammy Davis Jr. began singing “The Candy Man” in my addled brain, immediately followed by teen pop flash-in-the-pan Aaron Carter wailing “I Want Candy” in a most annoying way. “And we’re off!” I shouted above the noise in my head, driving the posted speed limit to Milford, PA and a Black Bear Film Festival screening of the short film “Fragile Beauty” directed by Alan Kaplan and narrated by Wendy Stuart Kaplan.

I chatted briefly with the filmmakers before the lights went down, and Wendy told me what her intention for the film had been before the cameras actually started rolling in Ethiopia, where the couple was documenting the lives of three tribes. “Originally, it was supposed to be about the incredible fashion, which is my passion,” she said, “but it ended up being so much more. These tribes have existed here for thousands of years, but their way of life is disappearing quickly, along with the landscape they inhabit. The Western world is encroaching on their very existence, and it’s going to come to an end. It’s incredibly sad,” Wendy shared, both on-screen and off, “but it’s inevitable.” Alan’s photography was beautiful, and the fragility of the lives documented was (IMHO) a moving testament to the plight of another species—humans, endangered by our own avarice.

The ride toward home was a thoughtful one, and the impact of the film, the butterflies and the tribes halfway across the world collided in my thoughts as I pondered the meaning of life and my place in the universe. Sighing aloud, I put a pink sweater (don’t judge!) on the dog and headed over to Livingston Manor and the 12th annual Making Strides walk to fight breast cancer, where Dharma joined the others wearing pink to make their voices heard. As I chatted with families who have lost loved ones to the dreaded disease, the song returned, but this time, it was French Chanteuse Edith Piaf and her plaintive cry was tinged with sadness. “Mais la vie separe, ceux qui s’aiment,” she sang, while Sinatra sang in counterpoint, “Since you went away, the days grow long”

“And soon I’ll hear old winter’s song,” I sang softly to the dog, as we visited with folks who were out to honor those who have left this earthly plane. The conversation was upbeat in spite of the circumstances, and I shook hands with walk organizers Jeanne Dutcher, Kim Taggert and Carole Edwards, decked out in pink wigs and grateful for the huge turnout. “It ain’t over till it’s over,” one of them was overheard to say. “We need more money in order to fight the fight.” Visit www.facebook.com/makingstrideswalklm to make a donation, since cancer is a disease that sadly affects us all. “But I miss you most of all, my darling. When autumn leaves begin to fall.”

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