Recently Zumalicious posted an open call challenge for a "photo safari" of our environs. There have been some beautiful photos of picturesque places. Submitted for your approval, a photo safari of a walk around a park in my home town in New Hampshire.

I went out the front door, making sure to lock it behind me. Why? No reason other than habit. The front yard still is filled with ice and hard-packed snow that's two feet thick in some places. You would have to be a really dedicated commando to breach that mess to get into the house.

The temperature outside was seasonably cool but not uncomfortable. Now, if you're from what we refer to as a warmer climate, that might sound like a bewildering description. But I have to say that when I got back to Boston a few days later, just that little tilt to a more southern latitude meant all the snow here was melted. To my knowledge, the frozen barriers are still intact up north.

When you take a walk at a time that my best friend likes to call "the armpit of the year," you have to be very vigilant to find anything resembling "beauty." There are no trees in bud. There are no flowers. There's barely any bare ground. However, there are industrial beauty spots scattered around.

It's a storm sewer grate with what I believe is a Ring Pop artifact. Note its subtle red plastic coloration that offers a happy counterpoint to the iron bars. Don't get me wrong. This isn't entirely meant to be comedy.

In another spot, the city has seen fit to employ a more modern grate with a honeycomb texture. Perhaps this will attract bees in a few months. Located near a municipally-owned campground, I can imagine that bees would be a welcome addition to the population of tourists who flock to the area in the summer months.

Grate three displays a juxtaposition of manmade and natural elements. The straight steel bars are gilded with delicately-applied road salt and punctuated by a salted pine cone. Can't you smell that bracing valley air?

The fourth grate (above) has discolored to a rusty orange-red and is embraced by a lacy mantilla of hard snow that's the consistency of limestone. You can almost see into the storm drain. Hmmmm. Better not get too close.

On my way to the park I happened by this fence upon which was the light fixture from a street light. Yes, it's puzzling. Yes, if you're confused, please do not adjust your attitude. For some reason, the light had parted from its pole and the helpful homeowner tied it to the fence. Now, I can't be sure, but I didn't see any visible means for it to light up at night.

Below is a close-up of the lens. I had never seen one of these in such proximity and was fascinated by the designs molded into the glass. It seems to me that the pattern of ridges must serve to focus or disperse the light most efficiently. In a season that nature lacks beauty, this piece of industriana provides it like a glinting gem.

To remove all the snow from city streets, the plow trucks roll in all kinds of weather. The people who operate them are heroes of a sort. There's even a state-wide plow rodeo competition for the best drivers. Unfortunately, there can be casualties of efficient snow removal in less-than-optimal weather conditions. This pine tree was reshaped by a plow.

Across the park from the pine tree is the heart of the recreation area. There is a swimming pool, a hockey ring, two playgrounds, a league-quality horseshoe pit, a soccer field, two food places my children used to call the "snack box" and five (count 'em) baseball diamonds. If you've ever flown over the United States, one of the more identifiable landmarks you'll see from the air is the baseball fields. Anyway, here is the outdoor hockey rink, flooded for ice in the winter and concrete for roller skating in the summer. I was pleased to find the "Warm-Up Area" because at this point my feet were pretty chilly. Alas, I suppose "warm-up" must mean something different to athletes. It sure wasn't any warmer over there.

I thought maybe the swimming pool would be more inviting. I remember it from taking lifesaving classes years ago. I remember that because the class was at 8 in the morning and the water was not much warmer than it looked here. Nope. The deck was filled with snow and the life guard's chairs were stowed safely out of reach.

But as I was leaving the park, I felt I owed it to you, dear readers, to offer one New Hampshire beauty shot of the trees. And right, there big as life was a huge crow which made me thing of fingerlakeswanderer and her post titled "Rooks." So this last one was inspired by you, Lorraine.

There is some blue sky peeking out from behind those pines so perhaps there's a promise of Spring and her promise of beauty to arrive. Book composition, the art and science of laying out pages of what will, hopefully, become a bestseller, includes leaving holes on the pages for art that will be placed later: photos, drawings, maps, etc. In these spaces, a proofreader will make a large "TK" notation so that the next person to read the gallies will understand that the white void was left for a reason.

I'll leave you with the image that late Winter should be thought of as a placeholder for the rebirth that is imminent. In our impatience for Spring to arrive, we are well to keep the flame of hope flickering.

Hope you enjoyed yourself, Zumalicious! I know I did.

If you enjoyed this post, please “rate” it.