Parmanu – It’s nice to hear the reaction of a real photographer. Thanks for stopping by.

Bill – Oh, O.K.! But I think I liked it better before I had any idea of where you were coming from. A solid hit straight to left field.

Didn’t know that about “loafer” — never heard that idiom around here. Kewl.

Thanks for puzzling!

Marvin – Sleet is loads better than freezing rain, you bet. I can hear another round of it rattling against the windows right now, and I have my fingers crossed — the predictions have been dire again this time.

GEM – Thanks. It’s more than an eye, though – it’s Photoshop, too!

Jim – I like pictures like that as well, but they’re hard to take — even the mechanics, getting them in focus, is challenging for me. I’m suprised you like that one at a larger size; maybe I’ll take another look at it now and see if I see what you do. Of course, part of the problem here may be that every inch of the view from our mile-and-a-half-long road, where this was taken, is familar to me. I walked home from school along it since the age of five. Hence the need to take a closer look and defamiliarize myself, as you suggest.

Bill – I don’t entirely understand that, but it’s a compelling little poem nonetheless. Thanks!

Theriomorph – Yes, you folks in New England are certainly getting way more snow that we are so far. I guess the ski people are happy. I hesitate to express my own feelings about snow, since I know you have to drive to work in it.

robin andrea – That difference is what makes the internet fun, isn’t it? I like seeing your photos of sunsets over the Pacific, too.

beth – I’m glad you and Theriomorph liked that one. I must admit my own preference was for the last two.

We’re under all sorts of storm warnings here – if they prove right, we may see 2-3 feet of snow in the next couple of days. I’m hoping for the electricity’s sake we don’t get the ice the midwest has seen in this system of storms, but appreciate the distant view: the stark beauty of it is unsettling in the best possible sense. Everything looks different, we see anew.

I’ve copied your top photograph onto my desktop so I can look at it for a while. In my bedroom at home I used to have three painting like that, all empty apart from a stream in one, a bench in another and a path in the third. No people. No animals. Very peaceful. After I left home my dad said he used to sit in the room sometimes and look at them and, although he never said it in so many words, wonder what kind of man his son had grown into.

I like the word ‘purlieu’ by the way. I’d heard it before but you made me look at it again. I suppose that’s what writing is all about. It’s the same old words again and again but we’re forced to reconsider them when we see them rearranged on a white page, a bit like your leaves in the snow.