The Magic City

A tale of beauty . . . and loss . . .

I've been visiting the lily pond at the Arboretum every chance I get. As I mentioned in one of last week's blip postings, I was even there THREE times on Tuesday a week ago, twice on Wednesday, once each on Thursday and Friday.  It's like I knew it couldn't last . . .

I have captured hundreds and hundreds of photos of the lily pond and its reflections since that very special visit a few weeks ago, after it snowed, when I discovered the ice had melted on the lily pond and it was back in business for reflections again, hooray!

One of the things I have enjoyed most about the lily pond is how it looks like a city in the sky, with those marvelous reflections. A floating city. Like something from this earth, but something more, something of heaven too.  A magic city floating on the water.

When I was there Tuesday morning of this week, one of the groundsmen was using a hose and brushes to clean out the fountain near the lily pond. I should have known the lily pond would be next.

I came by on Wednesday afternoon and caught my breath in shock. The lily pond had had its spring cleaning, that's for sure. The water was crystal clear, and you could see the bottom (and the orange goldfish). And they had added some larger plants throughout the pond. Both changes have broken up the reflective surface I've been enjoying so much.

I nearly sat down and cried. But a young gent about age five was there with his grandma, enjoying the lily pond. And I didn't want to make a scene. So I took a few snaps and quietly walked away.

Who knew that part of what made the water surface so reflective was the darkness within it? That thought may be something that I chew on for a while. The imperfections are what made it so beautiful?

And of course I have hundreds upon hundreds of photos from these past few weeks of visits, some of them just full of magic. And the plants they put in will host the damselflies and dragonflies come summer time. So there will be things to look forward to. (And yes, I know, there are people starving in the world, and tragedies and loss; I know all of that. But here sits this girl, crying over her lily pond.)

This feeling may pass. But for now, I feel a bit like someone from Atlantis, who stepped out of the water to walk on earth, only to return to her magic city to find it gone. No going home now, mermaid-girl.

Gone, all gone. Or at least . . . diminished. Sometimes life asks us a question. On this day, the question that it framed in all but words, as the poet Frost might say, was what to make of a diminished thing.

Is there any love more bittersweet than the love that you have for something you have lost?

So, having said all of that, let me present to you this very special blip. Here is one of the last photos of the lily pond in all its spring splendor, with its reflective surfaces intact.

This is the last photo of my magic city. Wasn't it . . . beautiful?

Today's song: Donovan, with Atlantis.