Winter Park

Like someone stripped of all possessions, or a thing its attributes, or a word scoured of its meaning – so the park rises naked, stark, severe in appearance, and we see more clearly something like an inner life. Spaces open, distances lengthen, an expansiveness obtains within familiar boundaries. Everywhere a breadth of light, winter light, defines, changes, transfigures: a new spirit, a new outlook finds its center by sheer force of will curving around the encircled reflecting pool, as though a troubled conscience now absolved, relieved, the stilled waters draw in more gratefully the forgiving grace of a purer, brighter morning.