I pull into Greisers’s parking lot to meet my friend Monica, and there’s a colony of gray-haired men on bicycles, slightly sunburned faces, who stand out with their bright yellow hi-vis gear. They exchange a few laughs before taking to the road.
I sit at a bistro table out front and see a patron through the window, working busily on his computer, amidst a backdrop of locally made artifacts. Helen Keller’s face takes residency on a center shelf. Dick Greiser sits out back, guarding his antiquity treasures.
Easton Congregational Church stands majestically across the street, with its giant spire paying tribute to the blue sky.
People walk by with smiles and greetings as both adults and children anticipate the treats that await inside.
The atmosphere is laid back, even at Easton’s busiest intersection, as cars and a loud Harley pass by.
A Bluejay suddenly appears on the horizon, landing on a tree across the street.
Sips of coffee awaken the senses, with the forsythias, magnolias and cherry blossoms in bloom.
Delightful conversation ensues among friends.
Unity exists in the simplest of places.
