We’ve been on the east side of the Mississippi often the last few weeks. Good friends over there, and last night we had Thanksgiving Feast at the house of some very good ones. Smoked turkey (my favorite way to have it—frankly, I’ve always found turkey a problematic bird to east, much too dry to be really tasty, but a good carrier for other flavors, so it behooves one to stuff them creatively and add spices as necessary) Brussels sprouts, potatoes, stuffing, three kinds of desert four kinds of wine, coffee, and some excellent conversation, not to mention a large, cheerful hearth with a substantial fire…ah, it was almost a Norman Rockwell moment!
It rained and snowed most of yesterday, stopped right before we left to go over there, and had cleared up completely by the time we left, which was after midnight. Where they live, few lights compete with the night sky, and the stars salted the dome. We listened to Santana on the way back. We did not overeat to the point of pain, but we were well satisfied.
This image was not shot last night, but a week ago returning from another party with some of the same folks. Still, I thought it was worth posting—it should go with Thanksgiving. Life should always have great beauty for us to appreciate at least once every day. If we’re fortunate, that beauty comes mostly from the people we call friends and lovers. But occasionally we have to notice that which serves as backdrop. So…
Coming home on Highway 55.
