drive yesterday took us through the greater part of Massachusetts,
through the Berkshires on the Mohawk Trail. At a pitstop along the
way, Flapjack had a cup o' joe whilst surveying the magnanimity of the
mountains (that mug of coffee never seems to leave his hands!). To our
surprise, the Flapman, caught up in a reverie, suddenly broke into
some Wordsworth:
"The innocent brightness of a newborn day is lovely, yet the clouds
that gather round the setting sun do take a sober coloring from an eye
that hath kept watch o'er man's humanity. Another race hath been and
other palms are won, thanks to the human heart by which we live,
thanks to its tenderness, its hopes and dreams. To me, the meanest
flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for
tears."
Wow. Cowboys... crunchy on the outside, warm and gooey on the inside.
Who knew?
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