Early on I found a birdhouse on top of a lonely hill.
Cattails, exploded and backlit in a marsh.
On foot, I found I was exploring areas that were previously closed to me, whether from ignorance or access restrictions for cyclists.
A fallen tree didn’t block my path.
But that tree did lead me to this stump in the lake, and its vivid reflection in the blue, blue water.
It was cold yesterday, and the water must have frozen overnight.
Any doubt about whether the path was sanctioned or not was dispelled here.
This poor machine was just abandoned by the side of the path. How’s about you just say a prayer when we slide on by?