I'm not a big fan of winter in general. I gladly left the the cold, the slush, the scraping of windshields, and the frozen toes behind when I moved to California.
However, even a curmudgeon like me can appreciate certain aspects of winter; the thick blanket of freshly fallen snow, the way it seems to muffle the world, reality itself, slows down time. The way it hangs from the branches of trees, and crunches under your feet.
Certain things can never be perfectly described. To think about it, language is always frustratingly limited. You have to keep spinning it, piling on the modifiers to conjure the right atmosphere.
The right photo has the power to take a shortcut to those memories in the dusty recesses of your brain. Of course, you have to have the memories to begin with. Otherwise the best it can be is a bundle of pretty, maybe something intriguing.
The picture above is worth clicking on to enlarge. There are some beautiful details there. Apparently it is of the Moseley & Motley Milling Co. from Rochester, NY.
Unfortunately, the above photo was printed on textured paper. I hate that; it obscures too much.
Posts
