Some Things Follow the Sun

A sunny day and I was meeting Chip Blake for lunch at a brewpub nestled in the shadow of Monument Mountain in the Berkshires. Monument Mountain is where Herman Melville met Nathaniel Hawthorne for the first time, on a Fourth of July picnic excursion. You can see this mountain from the brewpub parking lot.

I had made good time traveling from the Land of Rip Van Winkle, thus I arrived early. The pub had not yet opened for business, but they let me in anyway. I sat at a table in the main restaurant and started reading a book I brought with me: He, Leo, Ewan Clark’s biography of Lew Welch.

I had hardly cracked it open when a friendly pub kitty named “Porter” sauntered over. He hopped up on the bench where I was sitting and settled down in my lap, purring. Cats love me. It’s a Moon-in-Leo thing. Herman Melville was a Sun-in-Leo. So was Lew Welch. I signaled to the server and ordered Porter a saucer of cream. She brought it over, along with a big dish of kitty-snacks for both of us. I let Porter have my share of the kitty-snacks. He purred while I read my book. When Chip arrived, Porter jumped to the floor and headed upstairs to the office to take a nap.

Chip and I headed into the bar. We ordered lunch. The food and conversation were great, and so was the “solar brewed” beer. I had the Ishtar IPA. Astrologically, Leo is ruled by the Sun. Maybe beer is too, or at least the beer you get here at the Barrington Brewery. Chip isn’t a Leo, and it was December 1, right in the middle of Sagittarius, so maybe these correspondences have reached their end.

Outside, clouds had rolled in. No more sun. Time to go. Chip headed off to another appointment. And after a quick stop at the litter box, I headed home to the Land of Rip Van Winkle.

©John P. O’Grady