Walking in the park, I felt claustrophobic for these branchlets under the ice. They looked like imprints of something still very alive but pegged, maybe against their will. I couldn't figure out what made them like that - so strange and tragic - lying torpid, immured. They looked like winter and a little like me in it.
Then I walked a little further and found some who were free and had only left a mirage of themselves. The ice melts. Thank goodness.
2 comments:
interesting. i quite like these new york posts. fragmented. dont worry, you are quite right. it does all melt. and soon.
I think the top picture of the tree branch (masquerading as a silver tree of life) is my absolute favorite of all your pictures I have seen so far.
Absolutely glorious!
Post a Comment