Having rested and rested for nearly ten days now and a successful
detox, on a rather sunny morning I decided to explore Cambridge. Not
the town side but the mountain side. The yellow red orange fruit tree
that crows eat outside the house is called Persimmon and once you get
used to the taste is really grows on you; the taste not the tree.
It got got cloudy in no time but not the dark cloudy but the silver
cloudy in Russian movies where the trees look barren and I was
disappointed with a dull brown maple tree but I was wrong. This was
not maple it was a look-alike and had seven-sided leaves.
I passed scenic horse stables with huge brown and black horses flowing
on the meadows and i picked up a frozen butterfly dead and looked at
with poetic and artistic interest and a delicate eye and did not know
what to do with it so threw it. Rob once said that Cambridge was a
beautiful part of the country and I walked waving to the occasional
black car and electrical and plumber on wheels and a farm mobile and
the horses ran alongside me as I decided to jump the fields.
When we were young and our foot fitted between two thorns of barb
wires I used to jump the fields all over borivali that had huge fields
then.
A billy goat came and wanted to speak to me as I stood and spoke some
gibberish to the goat. It was a huge goat not the small ones we eat in
India but a mountain goat. No one eats Billy goats here. In fact male
goats are too hard anyway.
I met a female jockey who asked me if I liked the horse and i said the
combination was beautiful. I saw black and white sheep that ran away
from me and then the maple trees. red, Beige, Khakhi, Cream, Purple
Lavender, and Yellow leaves. but the real yellow leaves came on my way
home as I walked 8 odd kms through bare trees and imitated bird sounds
and kept them interested and walked through Kings Land which has a
cluster of lovely houses, not like the country villas with huge
windows back on St Kilda Rd. But the leaves that had a distinctive
shape were really bright happy sunshine smiley yellow. The cows were
grazing and I saw a field with black and white cows whose milk as not
as good as the brown cows that are typical to India and anyway these
cows are injected with everything to keep them milky.