Autumn had more than six weeks to finish up when we got snow and ice, the winter mix of Halloween 2011. Winter has been with us for a month now, nary a flake nor flurry. In Fact, warm days mostly, few really cold or chilly even, a couple downright balmy, confusing our coat selection. Then the snow came, only a couple of three inches, enough of a reminder of what winter should be.
I had a doctor’s appointment on Palisades, the Heights, more the edge of than square in the heart of the heights; everything went well and as I always do, I walked back to my downtown abode, form Palisades down Newark Ave. It’s a fine walk, past the ominous high school, down the hill, the cemetery, Turnpike overpasses, freight train pond and woods. It’s the borderland, where the hill country of the heights meshes with the lowlands of downtown.
Was this a statement being made? Why would somebody apparently etch AIDS on this rusting lock? The more you keep your eyes open the more you see that’s simply inexplicable.
There’s giddiness when it snows. You want to see the snow, feel it, like when you were a kid and school was called off. What I love about it the most, at least when it first falls, everything is change, transformed, covered with the cold, wet white. It’s fun to take pictures for the sole reason that perceptions are altered along with our familiar terrain.
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