Tuesday, February 26, 2002

Yesterday, a Monday

Late afternoon I took a walk on the Conewago Trail nearby. The weather was lovely, not as it should be this time of year. Only a sweatshirt covered my T-shirt and a cap my head. Done mostly for my physical health but as it often turns out, it is for my emotional health as well. Although yesterday was not typical, for on Monday's I often wrestle with getting through the day, then it's vice versa.

To get to the trail head I drive down Old Hershey Road past a meandering stream at which I have never stopped even though it has often invited me to do so. But yesterday on the way home I actually turned around to go back and have a closer look. I may have been prompted to do so by the fact that my camera was in the knapsack lying between the fronts seats of the van.

What sucker me in for a second look was the upright roots of a downed sycamore tree. But what kept me was the reflections of the trees in the placid surface of the stream. And what fulfilled me was the blended image I created last evening after making supper for Lin and I.

What had filled out my camera disk was the silhouette of a tree in the setting sun on the other side of the fence. I might, probably should have stayed longer but duties back home beckoned. So one steals time for the passions that sustain from the daily routines that demand.

Afterall it is only borrowed time...

jim