Marcoclicks

It’s striking that the leaves on some trees are fully out while others have barely begun to blossom. I guess that’s diversity in the natural world (where it’s still acceptable?). It means we get to see the progression from bare branch to graceful leaf again and again, with trees of different species and even within the same species.

That’s a bit academic. What attracts me is the contrast that now focuses on color - the play of yellows and greens and everything in between. I love the way they play together, the light greens leaning toward the yellows and the dark greens speaking a bit of blue. Go figure!

Or just look!

The cherries, what a delight to witness their subtle variations of pink and rose and almost-red. Perhaps it’s a good preparation for the lilacs and their colors.

As much as I’ve enjoyed the cherry blossoms, I’m captured by their slow transition into their full summer regalia. As their blossoms fade, their yellow-green leaves begin to grow and we are given a much more complex symphony of colors.

These colors work well together. Indeed, for me at least, the more colors working together, the more complex the resulting image. I like this diversity, there’s nothing to be frightened of; challenging yourself can be worthwhile.

In nature, and in art, and in our public life, we are enriched by complexity and diversity. Maybe we’ll find some leaders who can see that.

The moon was waxing gibbous (just so you know) the morning I took this shoot. This is one of my favorite tree assemblages, a Chinese Sumac, I think, on the side of Peters Hill. What I wanted to capture was the snow, glowing in the moonlight.

I get such a kick out of the glow and the shadows cast by the full or almost-full moon (err, I mean waxing gibbous…). The shadows weren’t strong in this shot and actually I’ve not been able to capture them when I’ve come across them. So the luminosity of the snow will have to serve instead.

I’m working to find some joy in my days and the moon adding some brightness to my morning Arb walk is right up there. Being grateful is easier the more you do it.

Out early and quiet, the chill morning too warm for snow to crunch. Still falling if a bit lethargically. Slow and steady through the night, more slow than steady. Yet here we are, with sufficient snow to transform our world. It doesn’t take much. That’s what I love - the familiar becomes unfamiliar: we get to discover (or rediscover) the familiar!

That said, it's one thing in the natural landscape, quite another in our civic landscape. There is so much unfamiliar in our country, so much that we have taken for granted, assumed was unchangeable. There’s nothing inherently wrong with change when it’s thoughtful, compassionate, and reflects some consensus. But that’s not what’s happening now. Far from it. Are we witnessing the end of a 250-year experiment? That would have been a more extreme question six or eight months ago.

We know the snow will melt and spring will come, soon or late. That will take care of itself, it pretty much always has( and let’s hope that will continue). Not so what we face in our civic life. It’s a heavier lift for us, immigrants all. We don’t have the luxury of sitting on the sidelines. May we mobilize our passion, husband our resources, and keep at this sacred task