That’s what I had in my mind today when I set off to capture something new in Forest Park. There was one particular tree that caught my attention as I drove south on Skinker Boulevard, so I doubled back to give it some love. If I had been capturing my images on film instead of the soulless silicon, I might have shouted “Hi, ho, Silver, away!” as I scrambled up the embankment by the golf course in pursuit of the lone tree, but I have learned the hard way not to shout things in public.
So I was quiet in my reflections on the beauty of nature, tiptoeing from place to place with only a soft “click” marking my photographic efforts to any ears that might have been attending to the local sounds. I also picked up a lot of trash that had blown up onto the Kennedy Forest Savannah, as the field next to the street is known, but it was such a pleasure to have another day of sunshine that I didn’t mind much.
I walked east into the park, enjoying the view of leaves, trees and grasses backlit by the sun hanging in the southern sky. Crossing over Art Hill and meandering past the grand basin to the edge of the golf course, where the grasses by the ponds have been flattened by the geese. At least in winter there isn’t as much green goose goo gunking up the grass.