Charles
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Charles
 One might say that Microsoft has disappointed us recently, but on a positive note, my MS Word is functioning well, which likely has nothing to do with the internet. Lately, I feel as though I'm nesting, acclimating not only to a new town and culture but also to a new home that is solely mine. At last, I can close the door on the toxic individuals I no longer need in my life. Moving on, nesting is an odd sensation; it's a mix of happiness and sadness. Sadness stems from longing for what isn't, and happiness comes from achieving exactly what you desired. It's all quite peculiar—as I settle in, the workers are incredibly kind and petite, these Latin individuals, with their small feet, prompt me to ponder trivial matters, such as the size of various cucumbers, which would likely leave me dissatisfied.  Fort Hill trail on the westside
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 Ernest Hemingway "Don’t get discouraged because there’s a lot of mechanical work to writing. There is, and you can’t get out of it. I rewrote A Farewell to Arms at least fifty times. You’ve got to work it over. The first draft of anything is shit. When you first start to write you get all the kick and the reader gets none, but after you learn to work it’s your object to convey everything to the reader so that he remembers it not as a story he had read but something that happened to himself. That’s the true test of writing. When you can do that, the reader gets the kick and you don’t get any. You just get hard work and the better you write the harder it is because every story has to be better than the last one. It’s the hardest work there is. I like to do and can do many things better than I can write, but when I don’t write I feel like shit. I’ve got the talent and I feel that I’m wasting it."
--Ernest Hemingway  Asia's cultural tapestry is indeed a spectacular mosaic of traditions, where every thread tells a story of beauty and love. It's like a buffet of history and heritage, where you can fill your plate with a little bit of everything, from the spicy kick of adventure to the sweet dessert of art. And just like a buffet, it's always better to come back for seconds, or even thirds, because there's always something new to discover and fall in love with!
  Travis Cove Overlook on the Hudson, Peekskill, NY Travis Cove Overlook was bustling with the kind of serene activity that could only mean one thing: the early birds were out in force, and not just the feathered kind. Boats skimmed the water's surface like graceful water bugs, but the China Clipper? That boat was the exception, stubbornly anchored as if it had decided to take a personal day. Then I encountered the jogger, a dashingly handsome fellow who seemed to be running on charm as much as on stamina. As our paths crossed, I couldn't help but wonder if he jogged this route daily, or if it was the allure of the China Clipper's steadfastness that brought him here. Either way, it was a morning where nature, boats, and unexpected encounters came together in a perfect symphony of Peekskill's riverside charm.  A chance meeting with a handsome jogger along the Riverwalk.  One Recent Morning One recent morning, I decided to take a walk up the hill from Decatur Avenue on the east side of Fort Hill in Peekskill, New York. I had no idea what I would find there, but I was curious to explore the area. What I discovered was a hidden gem that took me back in time and offered me a glimpse of nature's beauty. St Mary's Convent Cemetery As I climbed the steps from Decatur Avenue and past the brush and hills and secluded wetland under a canopy of trees, I came across a gate that led to a cemetery. I was surprised to see that it was a convent cemetery, belonging to the sisters of St. Mary's Convent. The cemetery is abandoned and in total disrepair with the grave name markers uprooted and stacked in a corner of the graveyard, the burials are now marked by unnamed crosses. From 1872 to 2003 the sisters of the Community of St Mary were buried in this cemetery. I wondered about their lives, their stories, their contributions to the community. I learned from a plaque that the sisters had founded and operated several schools and hospitals in Peekskill and nearby towns, as well as missions in other countries. They had also been involved in social justice and environmental causes, such as fighting racism, poverty, and caring for the earth and its creatures. I was impressed by their legacy and their spirit of service. Nature Trail After spending time in the cemetery, I proceeded up the hill, following a nature trail marked by signs. The trail offered an adventure, leading through wetlands, steep rocky ridges, and woods. I encountered a variety of flora and fauna, including wildflowers, ferns, mushrooms, birds, squirrels, and deer. The sounds of nature surrounded me: leaves rustling, crickets chirping, and water flowing. The trail was devoid of people. Alone, I felt transported to a different place, time, and country. I relished the solitude and tranquility, along with the challenge of navigating the rough terrain. The trail, not well-maintained, had overgrown or muddy sections, requiring caution to avoid getting lost or injured. The trail's pinnacle was the Hudson River view from the hilltop. The vista was breathtaking on this clear, sunny morning. The blue water shimmered in the sunlight, with green hills and mountains across, and boats and bridges dotting the distance. A sense of awe and gratitude overwhelmed me at the sight. Conclusion Ascending Fort Hill was a highlight of my Peekskill experience. I uncovered a historical and picturesque locale away from the main roads and bustling downtown. I gained insight into the history and culture of the sisters of St. Mary's Covenant, who positively impacted the community and beyond. The beauty and diversity of nature provided a haven from the stress and noise of the lively small city. For anyone visiting Peekskill, St. Mary's Covenant Cemetery and Nature Trail are hidden treasures worth exploring.   The rain today provided a welcome break from the recent heat, and it was very dark for a long time. I didn’t get much done as I'm recovering from what appears to be another bout of allergies, giving me cold-like symptoms. I may have overindulged at a weekend party I'd rather forget, even though it was enjoyable with an old friend. Nevertheless, life is short. It's worth it to self-indulge every so often. It was a calm day. I didn't get to read as much as I'd hoped, nor did I write much, instead choosing to watch horror movies, which I really enjoy. The sound of rain at my new place was wonderful, especially hearing it hit the courtyard pavement. However, the thunder before the rain, which sounded like explosions, was less pleasant. I'm not fond of thunder, especially when lightning flashes inside the house—it's scarier than any horror movie. Feeling unwell and still recovering from a lingering hangover, I noticed someone interesting who stood out to me. Leaning on the wall with one foot up, he was engrossed in his phone. I've seen him before, and although we've caught each other's glances, we've never talked. I think he might be Dominican since I haven't heard him speak English. Maybe next time I'd just say hello and see what happens...
  Blackened Salmon Learning to cook for yourself again can be daunting, but it's also creatively inspiring. With so much salmon on hand, I decided to take one from the freezer and cook it tonight. It turned out to be a blackened salmon that was actually quite good. Besides learning to cook again, I have to watch what I eat since I got sick in the last two weeks from an unknown source, possibly from eating out too much. As for the weather, today was slightly cooler than the previous day, which was a relief by the Riverwalk on the Hudson.  You probably don't think of salmon and electrolytes as being a thing, but this pink fish is actually a good source of potassium, a mineral that plays a critical role in helping to regulate fluid levels in the body.
Peekskill Riverwalk on the Hudson with the geese.
 Love, the enigma that has puzzled poets and philosophers for ages, seems to have transformed from a butterfly's flight to a seasoned traveler's journey for me. As the years have added a slight hint of wisdom, it appears that my heart, once a nomad, now yearns for a single hearth. It's like finally finding that one gourmet dish that ends the endless buffet hopping the inscrutable being has lived. Here's to the one who has become the North Star in the constellation of my affections, guiding my heart to the harbor of contentment. 🌟  Forget Me Nots
Patrice Rushen  And now, Mr. Pearson, with a new nook to call your writer's haven, who knows what literary masterpieces will flow from your pen, fueled by the finest java this side of Rome. Ah, the suburban dream, where the grass is greener, and the coffee is stronger! It's like stepping into a sitcom where every day promises a new quirky neighbor or an unexpected block party. And let's talk about that coffee – it's not just a beverage, it's a lifeline, a muse, and a hug in a mug. It's the liquid equivalent of a standing ovation for getting out of bed. As for writing, well, who needs a fancy desk when inspiration strikes in the coziness of your new abode? The furniture may be playing hide and seek, but hey, priorities, right? First, we light up the internet, then we light up the world with prose. So, here's to being in a good place – both literally and figuratively – where the biggest worry is whether the couch will match the curtains you don't own yet. Cheers to new beginnings and the perfect cup of joe that makes you the unofficial poet laureate of Peekskill!   |
AuthorCHARLES PEARSON
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