April 19, 2008
One of many musical paths.
You can have absolutely no idea where you’re going, and still be on a good path.
Or, as I like to say when maps have failed me, I have failed the maps, and I’m walking or driving around in squiggles,
“I’m not lost, I just don’t know where I am!”
There is a significant difference.
This was the well-marked path I trod at the end of today’s chilly afternoon. The photo of lushness offers no clues to the local truth: it snowed Friday and this morning! A few joyful flurries late yesterday and a short, solid burst in the middle of the night. Headed back from afternoon errands, I had wanted to photograph the thick white flakes blowing sideways against the spring green, but neither my camera nor my presence of mind were handy. Flurry was both noun and verb, and flew against the kind of sunny sky that makes you certain a rainbow is near. Like pieces of Styrofoam driven by a wind machine, fluffy, airborne alien visitors landed on my hair and windshield. I watched them carefully for as long as they remained intact, and as they melted into miniature puddles I was reluctant to say goodbye.
Adding to my delight, when I finished working at about 4am (remember, I am Vampire Kelp Woman), I walked into the living room and found my eyes squinting from the surprise of moonlight bouncing off an inch of snow covering everything in view. Were I a more talented photog perhaps I could have captured this magic, but it remains in my memory. And now, in your imagination. The path through Spring winds in unknown directions, green, white, and so much more.