January 9, 2010. Saturday and I was on a walk around Silver Lake in West Harrison. You see these little paths that lead off to somewhere. Off the path, away from the markers. It was cold and we were playing follow the blue square, until we followed the white square. But it was a beautiful afternoon, not too cold, just snowy and sun dappled. There’s something about boulders rising up from the ground, white striations of minerals striping the rock. It always seems so wild to see them, like rocks are alien intruders in a placid landscape. Maybe it’s because we expect that they extend to the core of the earth, that they support the very ground we walk on, or that we suspect they have been here forever.
January 9, 2010. Still on the walk around Silver Lake. This little framed view was to the lake, in the background, visible only through the branches and tree trunks. The sky behind us was a beautiful blue, the sky in this direction was grey, and from here, it was smoky and misty. But the view was intriguing, inviting you to walk through, even though I didn’t, like I thought some ancient trap would spring and capture me. I couldn’t risk that – I had responsibilities. No adventures just now.
January 9, 2010. Saturday and I was on a walk around Silver Lake in West Harrison. You see these little paths that lead off to somewhere. Off the path, away from the markers. It was cold and we were playing follow the blue square, until we followed the white square. But it was a beautiful afternoon, not too cold, just snowy and sun dappled. There’s something about boulders rising up from the ground, white striations of minerals striping the rock. It always seems so wild to see them, like rocks are alien intruders in a placid landscape. Maybe it’s because we expect that they extend to the core of the earth, that they support the very ground we walk on, or that we suspect they have been here forever.
January 9, 2010. Still on the walk around Silver Lake. This little framed view was to the lake, in the background, visible only through the branches and tree trunks. The sky behind us was a beautiful blue, the sky in this direction was grey, and from here, it was smoky and misty. But the view was intriguing, inviting you to walk through, even though I didn’t, like I thought some ancient trap would spring and capture me. I couldn’t risk that – I had responsibilities. No adventures just now.
