Princeton

Only nine miles south from the suburban development where I grew up,

Princeton was always a sought after destination.

From a young age I was enchanted by the 17th century farmhouses, wild English gardens

and quaint town center.

New Jersey has welcomed us with low humidity and pleasantly warm days,

idyll for strolling down Witherspoon, 

crossing Nassau and entering the wrought iron gates of the university. 

Although the storefronts house more brand name retail outlets, on the surface,

the charming college town remains untainted from the propulsion of modern life. 

The campus is still the most impressive I've ever encountered

with its gothic spires, ivy covered facades, and modern sculptures.

After a seventeen year slumber the cicadas

have emerged in droves providing a summer soundtrack.

They occasionally landed on us as we walked the cobblestone pathways to Prospect Garden.

How lucky am I that mother's health, on the last day of her 89th year,

continues to be in top form.

We reminisce about the years she worked at Bamberger's, 

our visits to the hospital where her mother took her last breath, and the chapel 

where our high school graduations were held.

Her memory remains sharp, her stamina can STILL make me feel like a sloth

and her mobility is outstanding.

I'm blessed.