Then maybe these Time shifts are part of some cycle,
Wherein heat of time and place turns us to spirit again
To condense and fall back as rain on hills where we began so long ago
To resume a journey that seems it may never end.
On this recent part of the journey the seasons have swept the past in an instant leaving a study in pastels and gray – a landscape drained of colour suspended in cloud.
As seen in a snow filled field.
Or in a flock of crows over a frozen field.
And grey is the colour of the industry of a northern people for whom frozen water means a more certain road for determined travelers.
Factories and roads are as busy as ever.
As a new year began, a bright mist promised new journeys beyond and below the Ingersoll moraine – highest point in Oxford County. In youth, the Time Traveler often drove his bicycle down this road.
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