Later than usual, after the morning frost melted, I walked in the cold over the trestle bridge over the cold river into cold meadow where the milkweed has gone to seed, berries on bittersweet vine are cracking themselves open, and winterberries, under a clean blue sky in wetlands, want to feed so many birds as while everything dries up and freezes. A rusty lock is attached to a chain is attached to nothing in the meadow that needs locking up.

All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2017