Walking on water.

Robert Frost's The Onset

(about season change) really fit this photo. I took this on an unseasonably warm spring day in April. The snow had just melted and the walkway was flooded. The temperature was almost 70. (It would snow again in a week) This is a local conservation area with many trails; some through woods, and some through the marsh as in this one.

In this picture: Clint and Jenni and a dog they were fostering at the time.

Excerpt of The Onset by Robert Frost

(complete poem at the bottom):

And I shall see the snow all go down hill
In water of a slender April rill
That flashes tail through last year's withered brake
And dead weeds, like a disappearing snake.
Nothing will be left white but here a birch,
And there a clump of houses with a church.

The Onset by Robert Frost

Always the same, when on a fated night
At last the gathered snow lets down as white
As may be in dark woods, and with a song
It shall not make again all winter long
Of hissing on the yet uncovered ground,
I almost stumble looking up and round,
As one who overtaken by the end
Gives up his errand, and lets death descend
Upon him where he is, with nothing done
To evil, no important triumph won,
More than if life had never been begun.

Yet all the precedent is on my side:
I know that winter death has never tried
The earth but it has failed: the snow may heap
In long storms an undrifted four feet deep
As measured again maple, birch, and oak,
It cannot check the peeper's silver croak;
And I shall see the snow all go down hill
In water of a slender April rill
That flashes tail through last year's withered brake
And dead weeds, like a disappearing snake.
Nothing will be left white but here a birch,
And there a clump of houses with a church.