REFLECTIONS&SAUNTERING BLACK CREEK CHILI,NY

REFLECTIONS


Reflections are but half-truths,
Where reality seems surreal,
Where reality ebbs and flows.

Reflections are but half-truths,
Not perfectly reflected back,
But faithfully enough to be
Recognized as half-reality.


Projecting on one unseen
Reflections of ourselves,
Reveals more to one’s self
Than bruising self reality.

Sauntering to Black Creek and back,
In Chili, NY many years ago
On a glorious winter afternoon.



The low winter sun shines golden, almost warmly, on the chill arctic landscape. The short thaw of a few days ago caused a curious phenomenon on the creek. During the recent thaw, the flooding meltwaters had overflowed the stream bed, leaving a white ribbon of snow, suspended between two sections of frozen brown slush not yet snow covered, thus mapping the summer stream banks.

The graceful curves of the white ribbon wandered between tree boles rising from the discolored slush. The slanting rays of the winter-weakened afternoon sun warmed to a golden-brown the tree boles that stood ankle deep in frigid melt water. The infinite blue depth of the north sky provides the perfect backdrop for the snow bound herbs. Even the gray seed-heads of the goldenrod catch the yellow light to offer a faint reminder of the long ago summer sun.

As the sun descends, a few wisps of white clouds arise, dotting the blue sky. Soon a thin grey veil is drawn; shadows lose their blue blush and become less distinct. The sun’s warmth, though slight, quickly disappears. The bronzed boles become cold and grey, the glory of the sunset will not be. The distant horizon shortens up as the grey of the clouds blends with the newly greyed snow.

A cold shudder runs through me as I begin the trek home. My morning footsteps extend ahead of me forever; the grey of the clouds blends with the newly greyed snow, earth and sky seem one, as I go home.
..............................................................................RDS


…in the midst of a crowd keep with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.”
..............................................................................................Ralph Waldo Emerson