Aspen Allegations - A Sutton Massachusetts Mystery
Page 27
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I took the left from Route 122 onto Depot Street, thankful that the interminable project to fix the bridge had finally been completed. Previously, I’d had to make a long detour to find another way across the river. On the down side, the arched bridge used to have a fun, sharp bump in it that, when hit at the right speed, could almost send a car airborne. I had enjoyed that, some dark nights when nobody else was around. Now the bridge’s curve had a far gentler arc to it. And perhaps in my growing maturity I found I did not much mind the change.
I moved up the long, sloping hill, gazing at the large homes around me, occupying land which had once been farmland. So much of the rural nature of the area was changing. Large colonials with three-car garages were creeping into orchards and wheat fields as if a wave of kudzu were sending curling tendrils over native plants. I knew that progress was inevitable, but still, some part of me resisted. I was pleased to see several black-and-white cows still occupied their comfortable, marshy pasture as I approached Central Turnpike.
I pulled to a stop at the five-way intersection, and grinned widely. They were at it again. Several years ago the house on the corner of the street had become infected with an abundance of holiday zeal. The owners had filled their yard with lights, statuary, and Christmas decorations of all shapes and sizes. Then, a year or two back, they had abruptly stopped. I had wondered if the neighbors had complained, or if the local police had declared such an ostentatious display at a major intersection to be a road hazard. Maybe it had been simple economics. It must cost a fortune to run all of the gadgetry they had.
Whatever the reason, it seemed to have been resolved, for here it all was, laid out in a glorious profusion. The entire house was coated with lights which streamed from base to roof. The lawn was nearly covered with trees, reindeer, trains, houses, and any other holiday-themed item I could dream up. There was even a sign announcing which radio station to tune to in order to hear their custom-designed broadcast.
None of it was lit yet, even though it was well past dark. I could clearly see Orion high above. Perhaps the family was waiting until December first to begin their visual offering? I gave a small nod in their direction. I would look forward to sharing in their celebration of the season. Until then, I would be content with a sky filled with silver glitterings.