Driving in the Snow (Vermont 2011)

Though the landscape passing our windows may have been some of the prettiest shades of blue, white, grey and brown I have seen to date (scene), I am happy to report that we are home now from a trip up into New England that was treacherous at its worst, cold enough to freeze our noses at best.

I did get my driver to pull the car aside a few times so I could capture the majestic mountains at distances equal to that of the heavens. That, and a few horses. Enjoy.

The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind.

…and this amount of ground cover, on a day that had mostly melted.

I still prefer the shore, though I will gladly visit the mountains again.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

(sonnet 116)

Bijou Cineplex, Vermont.

Leave a Reply