On Sunday I went into Lincoln Marsh. The sun was bright and there was a light cover of crisp snow. I knew that cover would be soon gone when the sun got to wherever it could in the sky, so I figured I better get in there.
I liked the snow-table aspect of the signage:
And the evidence of plumbing beneath the nature:
The picture-window nature of the boardwalk is nice:
I met a dog:
I’m fond of tilt-shift in moments like this, with its ability to heighten the already skewed plain/ plane:
My little horse must think it queer./ To stop without a farmhouse near.