So the british are coming

Where I live now is right next to"the battle road." It's the sight of Paul Revere's ride, the beginning battle of The Revolution, etc...basically where farmers and ordinary men came together and fought for all we have now. It's right beside what is now route2A and an air force base, so good luck if you want to lose yourself in the history because all you'll hear are friggin cars and horns and planes taking off and landing.



Anyway, the battle road extends for about 16 miles to the Boston harbor. I've been walking just short snatches of it and trying to get into what it was and is - the weight of it, you know? On the path today I came across a huge fat burnt-orange and jet-black catapillar crossing the path. I studied him for a second and the put a twig in his path to watch him cross over it. He undulated right over it quite gracefully until the last section of his body paused on top of the twig and he took a big dark green shit! In such a "fuck you!" Like "put a twig in my path, will you!" I th0ught it was a perfect metaphor for our colonists.



A side note: I had to close the bar tonight and it wasn't until one or so that I was on the road by my house that not only did I almost hit a big deer that promptly congregated with a friggin gaggle of deer on the other side of the road(or whatever a lot of deer are called), but just after that I almost hit a racoon that wouldn't budge out of the road! Pee Wee's Playhouse around here, no? (I loved that show.) I love you.