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On the Delaware

On the Delaware

We trudged down to the bank, a short distance from our lodging, and found a perfectly quiet, though not frozen, Delaware river. It was one of those still winter days when vision takes on a crystalline quality, and the houses on the Jersey side transmitted their images to our eyes with conspicuous limpidity. Downstream on Continue reading On the Delaware

Local snow

Local snow

Winter is a revelation of form. Matter exhales, tightens its shroud; gnaws its bitter logic. Only the bright ghosts of forms stand relevant and alert. Everything drips. This is a time when conversations tend to get to the root of things. Celestial bodies appear closer, harder, and earthly things more like them: decisive, catastrophic. The Continue reading Local snow

Winter

Winter

Winter. Ordinary time. The frozen space between Christmas and Lent, scraping ice off the car window at 6am, the tail end of night, when everything has a crystalline, hyper-real look and my own breath is the only thing moving. I wonder how the rabbits can sleep this time of year.             Indoor life is a Continue reading Winter