I like to look for the unfamiliar in familiar places, for what is different in the same, and what is striking about the ordinary. All too often we see what we want to see, or what we expect to see, and really don’t look very closely at what is actually present. Part of this is our perspective; we see the world from a certain height above ground level, and a change of elevation can reveal things we (literally) overlook.
Today I parked on Lagoon Drive between the Dwight Davis Tennis Center and the Grand basin, and walked along some of the waterways in the park, circling Post Dispatch lake before leaving. There were only a few others out walking in the park today, but I did have some company. Canada geese flew overhead, honking cheerfully (are they giving each other directions? Commentary on the things below? Warnings about the perfidy of man?), I managed to startle 3 great blue herons who were resting on Wildlife Island across the lake from me (or maybe they were just tired of each other’s company, as I later caught 2 of them fighting), there was a company of mallards near the boathouse, more Canada geese on the Grand Basin and a lone hooded merganser floated with the mallards on PD lake.
I do find the colors of winter to be attractive. The various shades of brown and straw, the occasional something green hiding with its drab neighbors, the lacy wisps of grass and the grays of the water all blend and complement each other. Ice was forming on parts of the waterways, striated by the gentle lapping of the water’s surface and pocked by air bubbles trapped beneath the surface. It all fascinates me; rocks, trees, grasses, the various evidences of the hand of man. Louis Armstrong sings in my mind, thinking to himself “What a wonderful world!”
