As much as you do, undoubtedly, I grow tired of the tense shouldered, hunching posture of winter, the gray ice pavement, even the frozen dog turds. But I don't want it to end. I cannot ask for it to be over. Time is as slick as that puddle ice. GO SLOW. The quiet is everything. Spring moves far too fast for me to beg for it. It is something to be savored, contemplated, in the ever-lasting distance of winter.
recently finished work.
That artwork is beautiful. I want winter to be over. :)
ReplyDeleteI've only been there once and I'm going out on a limb here, but is this Prospect Park? The yellow green of that central tree makes me believe spring will come again.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful Frank.
ReplyDeleteI could not agree with you more about winter and spring. I am almost afraid of the start of spring, as if its end is in the beginning.
Thanks everyone.
ReplyDeleteEllen, what was it? Because you are right. I am doing a series within the park, spring/winter.
Marie, that's just it. That's its beauty, too. But it also means I need to go with it, move as spring moves.
The curve of the land, the lack of skyline behind the trees, the arrangement of the trees...something just said Prospect Park. I've only been there once (mushroom hunting w/Marie) but you've obviously captured something essential because I recognized it (or thought I did) immediately.
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