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Natural Disclosures
Memories of O.S.A. Lake, Killarney
The face of the water, in all its states, as mysterious as a human face
Decades of coming, traces of unfinished conversation, meals around a campfire, faces and names slowly vanishing, like ghosts between trees. I can't hang on to them forever.
"It's different now," I can tell myself, the only privilege of my age left. My companions back then are no longer around. Their faces are harder to render in my mind, photos in boxes.
I burned a few twigs watching, just for the sake of it, while listening to whispering pines. I had seen them somewhere, in a noble gallery, I think.
OSA Lake View #6
Red pine at OSA Laske
OSA Lake View #9
O.S.A. Lake
Camp at Lake Killarney
OSA Lake View #6
Red pine at OSA Laske
1/4
Morning coffee at the old camp, sipping it slowly, watching the big lake, Lake Killarney. It's quiet like never before.
Past is like memories fading into the noisy reality of the present.
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