there are times when my mind wanders to past things, to past haunts, to past hopes unrealized: to moments gone before and lost in streams of consciousness that can no longer be recalled. there are nights like this when i don’t even need to wonder if i will sleep, if the peace will come, if the silence will enfold me: these complement the nights when the dreams drive from the ætherial to the over-saturated hypercolour prominences that sneak into the waking. dreams woven in sound and vague wanderings no longer trouble me as they once did: it is the memory of what i escaped to be there and capture these moments, only to haunt me each time i revisit them and walk those times anew.
the winter before this photo was taken, these trees were nearly decimated by a severe ice storm. i was unable to capture the ice when it occurred, so maybe that’s why i think this, but i rather enjoy the way they looked that first year afterwards, with just one summer’s growth, and the aching need to survive.