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I Took A Walk February 16, 2008

Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature, macro photos.
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No, really!

OK, so you’re not surprised. I always take a walk. It’s what I do when I need to put politics and people behind me and connect with my source.

It was cold and clear here in the Berkshires today, with a bright light and a thinness to the air typical of a mid-winter New England day. I puttered around the house ’till mid-day to let it warm up a bit. Then I laced on a pair of aggressively cleated boots, expecting it to be icy up in the hills, and hit the road.

I was right.

ice1-small.jpg

I chopped a parking place in the snow bank on the side of the road where a trail should have been, and headed into the woods.

It was a different world in there, even from my little hill-town home. Every branch was heavy, every bough bent low, interlocked in a lattice of crystal beauty.

ice2-small.jpg

The trail proved to be an impassable non-entity, criss-crossed by saplings intertwined in an icy weave. I found myself moving instinctively through the wider maze of the woods, scanning the near-impenetrable ice crust for a plausible path, slinking low beneath the crystal lattice, without a trail, without a destination, but with the sun at 11 o’clock. I knew I could range widely in this convoluted terrain and still return to my car at the end of it all by putting the sun over my right shoulder and heading for the valley below.

It turned out that the boots I had chosen in the warmth of my ante-room were instrumental in my day’s wanderings. The snow was deep, but the crust was nearly impenetrable.

redwood-small.jpg

Where circumstances might have necessitated snow-shoes in another year, now I struggled up the steepening icy slopes using mountaineering techniques, pied troisiemme and piolet ramasse, though my “piolet” was an adjustable ski pole.

In all, it was a couple of miles of off-trail meanderings, somewhat evenly divided between intense concentration aimed at surviving the next hundred yards and a magical marveling at the transformation of the world around me.

Wish you were here to share this with me – it’s really something rare and special.

Comments»

1. Phydeaux - February 17, 2008

What you describe in this post is exactly what I used to do as a kid, when the snows would be deep and the ice thick even down here in North Carolina.

I thank you for the beautiful pictures and the trip into my memory.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I say ye … The Cunning Runt!

2. littlebangtheory - February 17, 2008

Thanks, man. Glad it resonated.

You know, there are some experiences which approach “universal,” and it’s a good thing when we can connect that way.

Diggin’ Ya,

-R

3. sherry - February 17, 2008

winter can be achingly beautiful, but spring and fall are my times.

4. DCup - February 18, 2008

Dang. You’re making me miss winter.

Just a little.

5. Spartacus - February 21, 2008

CR,

Here’s what your pics reminded me of:

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost (1920)

It’s because you really are a poet with your camera.

6. TheCunningRunt - February 21, 2008

Spart, you’re putting me in a rare atmosphere, in a place where Bob Frost brings a tear to my eye.

Thank You, Humbly.


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