Longtime residents of my hometown, Englewood, NJ—as
well as visitors to that city’s Winton White Stadium who have walked across the
street—might recognize this scene of the brook running south from Durie Avenue.
I’ve passed it innumerable times over time, but only after using my camera
more intensively these last few years did I begin to notice the reflections on
the water, the conic perspective, the branches forming a canopy over the creek, or the colorful interplay among the blue garage, the flaming bushes, the brown trees and the
white snow.
I took this photo on Sunday, when temperatures soared—before
Mother Nature, deciding that a good thing shouldn’t last long lest we no longer
appreciated it, dumped two more helpings of snow on this area in quick succession.
Well, Henry David Thoreau viewed the season benignly
in Walden:
"Many of the phenomena of Winter are suggestive of an
inexpressible tenderness and fragile delicacy. We are accustomed to hear this
king described as a rude and boisterous tyrant; but with the gentleness of a
lover he adorns the tresses of Summer." For me, anyway, what joy exists in
this season lies in the quiet pauses that winter permits once in a while so we
can appreciate its beauty.
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