Bower Ponds

I see scrapes in the ice. Shadow-like skaters in the distance. Twiggy trees that part for the bulbous sun.


Stop trying to be profound. Just call out what you see. And don't lean solely on the rods and cones faculty, see with all your senses.


A quiet sky. The heavens rest against an unseen backdrop.

Looking again, there's more.

Much, much more.