The skeletons are in the lawn, or pulled up on shore and sitting at unnatural angles. Their jaunty, scalloped canopies are gone, leaving only the naked bones wrapped with wisps of dried seaweed. The leaves fall around them and soon they will poke out from snowy landscapes. They look their best sitting in blue water, next to a weather worn dock. They are purposeful and straight when holding in place a shiny boat.

 

The landscape is changing, fields are cut, snow has fallen, and we’ve left the lake for time in the city. Apartment windows at night show far off mini landscapes, part of a couch, pendant lighting, a portion of a painting, and forms that move around the room. Every now and then they come into view, and I wonder if they can see me.

 

The world can feel so different from these various vantage points. People live among trees and lakes, as well as tall buildings and sidewalks. A different world is out there, and it can be hard to imagine, and even more difficult to understand. “What is there to do?” “Is it safe?”, “Is everyone conservative?”, “I’d hate the traffic”.

 

Change can be hard at first, but it wakes me up and makes me think. It opens my eyes to a new appreciation. Some things are gone, but new things are right here in front of me. I store up these moments, each step, each encounter, each smile, they add up to my life. And that blue sky of today is over us all.