We belted as we drove through upstate New York, “I’m leaving today. I want to be a part of it, New York, New York!”
Before this trip, I would always think of the vertical power of Manhattan and bright lights while belting show tunes. As we drove on the old Mohawk Trail and eventually US-20 through upstate New York, I realized I only ever knew one small piece of what makes New York State infamous the world over.
Now when I think of New York, my mind leaves the city and ambles to the pitch-perfect barns that grace the gentle hills.
I conjure images of old steamboats and steam trains whose whistles can’t be ignored but have a melodic and timeless patina.
I think of sticky jugs of maple syrup and spring blooms dotting roadside stands, with “honor system” coffee cans for payment.
I think of the wonder of a state that can offer one of the great cities of the world only minutes from pristine working farms and gentle roadside diners serving homemade pie of days gone by.
I will never forget the sprawling New York countryside and I will forever land in Manhattan with a knowing smile of the majestic power just beyond Wall Street in every direction.
