Location Taken: Gros Morne National Park, Newfoundland, Canada
Time Taken: July 2012
There’s a path in the woods, between a camp and a beach. It goes up a hill, or perhaps down it.
I’ve gone down it, and up it again. It looks different on the return trip, this place I just was.
Perhaps it is different, changed immensely in the time between the coming and the going. Or perhaps it is I that is different, changed ever so slightly by what I have seen, the beauty of the day.
Or maybe it’s just the angle change, since I really am seeing a different set of trees than I saw going the other way. Or at least the other side of those trees. And all this philosophizing is just useless banter and poppycock.
Ah well, I guess the realist in me won over the philosopher side…
