Carey Harrison

The city and the country – 8 – July 17 2014

Repent!

Repent!

Homewards, out of the city and its swirling craziness – so much weary sadness on the faces and in the eyes of its citizens – and back via the subway’s own separate craziness: one of the wheeling crazy-eyed prophets in the crowded warren under the streets that connect the Port Authority to Times Square.

Gibraltarian cloud

Gibraltarian cloud

This is the most crowded time there, between 6 and 7 as hordes rush to catch their bus to escape the city. My bus journey featured one of my less favorite drivers, heavy footed on the brakes when we’re still approaching the Lincoln Tunnel, but otherwise a good man. On the starboard bow along the route, just outside New Paltz, an extraordinary giant cloud appeared, one huge piece the size of the Rock of Gibraltar, layered in pinks, on the horizon. Mesmeric; also somehow monstrous; painters from the Middle Ages to the 19th century would have rejected it as lacking cloudliness. Sinister, almost.

My favorite driver

My favorite driver

On my arrival back in Kingston, my favorite driver was overseeing the loading of a bus; a fine elderly gent (best if I don’t divulge his age), charming and polite. Calls me, ‘Young man.’ From him, it fits.

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