The Deception of Beauty

A few days ago, on my way to work, I pulled my car into someone’s driveway to take this photo. It was a really pretty picture in person – the photo only gives you a sense of what was going on.

I live in a place of exceptional beauty. Every day on my way to work I cross a babbling brook&#185 as it’s emptying into what I assume was once a mill pond.

Sleeping Giant Mountain, a craggy peak left here when the last ice age retreated, stares me in the face as I turn on to the main drag, heading south toward the Interstate and work.

The beauty comes with a price. During the winter it is treacherous. The windy road in the picture is no picnic for the faint of heart and not recommended without 4-wheel drive during its many snow covered days.

I so want spring. I can see signs it’s almost here. Look how quickly the snowy trees and lawns gave way to an uncovered road. That’s the amazing power of the Sun, now much higher in the sky than it was in December or January.

There is little spring on tap in the next week. If it doesn’t come to me, I’ll just be forced to go to it. It won’t take much to make me.

&#185 – Having taken the New York City Subway to high school for four years, I became an expert on the nuances of babbling.

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