#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Charles River, Trestle Bridge
It seemed wise to wait a couple of hours before heading out, so it was a few degrees higher than zero and I protected myself well, even my face wrapped in a fleece scarf. The dogs were playful and happy – Charlie asked me to throw him a frozen stick – and didn’t mind the cold. I walked briskly and stopped once or twice, very quickly, and tried for a picture or two and settled on this one, from the trestle bridge over the Charles, one of my favorite trees, always there by the opposite bank at the edge of the meadow. So long for now, tree of all seasons. I am saying, with each crunchy footstep over a layer of snow on ice: thank you, New England, my woods and my brooks and my river and meadows, my ice, my January freeze and my friends and my dogs and my children. I will not be gone long and I’ll miss you. I am happy in many other places when I’m away, but this landscape will always be home.
“I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”