The path had a few footprints and a lot of paw prints. Silent skies were silver and a white sun popped out for one sudden second. A red sign with brilliant green moss covering a hillside of stark stones briefly flashed color. I blinked and it was gone. The blue blanket was once again pulled up over the day. The path crept beside a frozen stream. Snow covered the seat of a park bench as if it had been upholstered for the day. Stop. A memory blinked at me. Ice formed along a distant dangling gray fence. It blocked the direction I headed. I took to the hills. The path was more treacherous, but also more scenic. And I could always go back when the ice melted. If ever. And after all, it was only a park, not a wilderness. Even though my imagination told me differently.
“Path in Larkspur Park:” is acrylic on Tyvek paper 24″×36″ by John Fish Dec. 2010.