Mid to late August in the US Northeast is a messy cluster of transitioning types of pollen, ragweed, and mold. I’ve been an allergy sufferer my whole life and only after starting a rigorous, condensed injection treatment cycle this year have I finally begun to feel some relief.
The area I live in is very scenic, with vast sprawls of farmland, winding rivers, and protected state parks that put a nice giant green colored blip on Google Maps depiction of New Jersey.
I’m such a freak for the outdoors that falling victim to these chronic allergies has in times past kept me from venturing to the other side of a colonial home or apartment windowsill, but the past few years have turned into an open book for my naturalistic tendencies.
It’s silly to be moved each day, or might seem silly to some, by the common sun up, moon up, wafting trees in the wind and crashing waves against a hazy shore routine, but I always am.
Last weekend my fiancée and I drove up to the Catskills for a nice relaxing 48 hour trek into the mountains, and on early Sunday afternoon I didn’t want to leave. More to come with pictures on that brief getaway, but it was an amazing trip. I’d gladly take the frequent reoccurrence of weekend trips over two or three weeks paid vacation each year.
Saturday and Sunday seem like an untapped resource to the adventurous, pack-up-the-car-and-go wanderlust type wanderers, and I’m honored to be a card carrying member of that group.
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