1. Was it me, or — especially at this time of year — was there an inversely proportional relationship between the ‘badness’ of the news and the beauty of the park?
2. Rather than worry about the news, I focused on the park.
3. I always walk this same loop — as regular readers won’t be surprised to hear 🙂 — and even though the loop is maybe one eighth of a mile long, and even though I find myself taking the same pictures week after week, I always find new things to admire: for example, the branch of the birch tree that cuts through the top of the picture. Why had I never noticed it before?
4. It helps that the perennials — such as these purple asters — are always blooming to replace the older ones that have faded away, and these new colors cause other parts of the landscape to advance and retreat.
5. It also helps that the leaves of the deciduous trees are turning yellow, orange, and red.
6. I had never noticed the branches of this elm tree before, but they were hard to ignore when highlighted by the yellow leaves.
7. And while I always admire these elms, the constantly shifting light — a function of weather and season — always makes their branches seem otherworldly and shocking. Usually, overwhelmed by the practical needs of life, I don’t think about how trees grow, but here it’s hard not to ask: how is it even possible that such things exist? (The oakleaf hydrangea is also having a moment.)
8. It’s nice to be reminded that not every rose blooms in the spring.
9. I had reached an age where time, as a practical matter, felt somewhat more limited. A person can only live so long.
10. Recently I started (sometimes) thinking about (my) age in terms of adding and subtracting decades, e.g., two decades ago, I was a certain age, which means that two decades from now, I will be a very different age. This calculation — and its implications — probably won’t make sense to anyone who isn’t at least as old as I am. There’s a lot to do and see on the earth, and time is the limiting factor.
11. Sometimes, it seems tragic.
12. But here, in this kaleidoscope of perfect light and color, time is irrelevant, which I try to remember when I leave the park and it begins to press down.
