I suppose as we enter spring, one may think it strange to see photos from a winters day, but not me. Before I forget and time passes on like it does, to the point, one describes as ” too long,” – too long ago, too far from here, a million miles away, etc etc.
I thought it nice to recall a little memory. in-between the hustle and the bustle that defines and construes the days of an east coast life. I recall the day when the snow had started and covered all the trees in a mere instant. I had somewhere to go, or so I thought I did, when suddenly I got the inclination and fixation to deviate from my pressing, habitual routine, and pull into the park by the side of the street.
Not to far from me and my normal life is a large park, it is all that is left of something more wild and free. I go there from time-to-time, to abandon the suburban and urban cosmopolitan way I see New Jersey striving toward. It is here that I can set myself free.
So I do recall, as I said I thought it nice, this little memory of the day I was the only person in the park; when the clouds came rolling in and the sky stood still between white and blue, and a blanket of snow froze time in my mind, and for a brief instant — long enough for a winter walk through enchanment.
I hope that I should never forget the feeling of this day.