Tuesday 24 April 2012: Secret Places
In 1965 my family moved from Princeton, New Jersey to Wellesley Hills, Massachusetts - from a college town to a college town. I spent a tremendous amount of time that first summer exploring the neighborhood. Within a mile was a pond with catfish and leaches. Up the road towards Weston were stone mansions set far back off the main road.
But down the hill from our cul de sac colonial was a vacant lot with a brook running through it, skunk cabbage, boulders and young trees with light filtering through them that left motions of shadows on the rocks and magical forest floor. I spent hours and hours playing in that vacant lot. No one ever found me there and no one else seemed interested in all that place had to offer. I built damns in the brook and sat on the boulders looking up to the sky and fed the chipmunks and squirrels while telling them stories of fairies and kingdoms on other planets and in other dimensions.
Today I decided to look for magic down roads that were new to me. I thought of Donna Nobel and turned left from the quarry road and found myself on twisty turny unpaved woodland roads. I happened upon this place by a bend in the way. In front of me was a hill with a steep driveway and a little girl skipping, dancing and singing. I looked from her to the modeled light on the pines, waters and tabletop boulders and could not help but wax sentimental. I imagined her playing in that secret place as I photographed it and felt a light fall across forgotten place in my heart leaving me feeling content and filled with the love I hold so dear for mother nature.