Our Memories, Our Stories

Every person’s memory is their own private literature.

— Aldous Huxley

And I have memories that stretch across several decades of early evenings at Hartwick Pines state park in northern Michigan.

Hartwick Pines, Michigan

 

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The Real Magician was Light Itself

I knew, of course, that trees and plants had roots, stems, bark, branches
and foliage that reached up toward the light. But I was coming to realize
that the real magician was light itself“.
…Edward Steichen…

Kensington Park, Michigan

 

Serendipity Is a Gentle Goddess

So it was that one sultry summer afternoon I followed this path through the woods and happened to find a small pond and meadow, where the canopy of  trees parted to reveal the blue, blue sky.  Truly, a shelter from the storm.

Kensington Park, Michigan