To my beloved
On a bright sunny day with temperatures in the mid-seventies, we rambled along the trails surrounding the delta-like shape of Long Pond. From there we continued on to the much larger adjoining Mashpee and Wakeby Ponds—first in the morning sun, before lunch, and later in the cooler light of the afternoon after three. Along the shores, we saw men and women with their pets playing at the water’s edge.
The clearings, unforgettable amid the surrounding forest, were bathed in clean sunlight. Their green patterns seemed to rival the timid Gothic forms that human hands have built in an effort to imitate nature.
Roots covered in emerald moss rose in steps toward translucent tunnels, leading us through a chance arrangement of natural colonnades and buttresses beneath open canopies. The fresh, aromatic air revived the errant heart as we walked through gullies and groves, at ease with the rhythm of the soul beside me.
Observations On Perception 