* * *
Boggs is the name of the train station that was once along the Montour Railroad - now it is a stopping point for bicyclists and hikers. At first it didn't seem like much - a little kitschy sign and and a picnic table.
I met the man who takes care of Boggs. Just to the right of the view on the photograph, he has planted all sorts of flower bulbs, perennials, shrubs and the like. There are concrete paver-slabs that wind through his little garden. He doesn't even live close to this place but chose to adopt it. I didn't ask him, but I wonder if he made the sign. I suspect we all need a place.
* * *
The further away a person walks from you, often says something more about you and less about them.
* * *
I have perceiv'd that to be with those I like is enough,
To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,
To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh
To pass among them or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so
lightly round his or her neck for a moment, what is this
I do not ask any more delight, I swim in it as in a sea.
There is something in staying close to men and women and look-
ing on them, and in the contact and odor of them, that
pleases the soul well,
All things please the soul, but these please the soul well.
~ Walt Whitman, "I sing the Body Electric", Leaves of Grass, 1892