Winter Pilgrimage to the Red Elm

It was one of those winter storm systems that promised to bring snow. How much was the big question. I had heard one to three inches, and another report said three to six. By the end of the day, several inches fell in town, and several more than that fell out in the country where we live.

The storm turned roads into a total mess and closed all of the local schools. Everybody except Penn State, that is. As they say, neither rain nor sleet nor snow nor hail nor apocalypse nor dark of night . . . or something like that. . .  :-) And so of course, I took the bus, which put me right on campus to witness (and document) the glorious snow.

It was the kind of wet, sticky snow that clung to every twig and branch and it made for wonderful pictures. I figured it was either breakfast out or pictures, and this time, I chose the pictures. Yeah, tell me about the sacrifices photographers make for their craft. ;-)

I hardly ever get to visit the Arboretum while it's actively snowing, so that's where I went. The snow was very heavy and it was a challenge to keep the camera safe. I sheltered it under my umbrella, kept the lens cap on, every second I wasn't actually snapping photos, and stopped under the pavilion to brush all of the snow off of me.

As I stood there, a man in a red jacket strode purposefully past me and walked down by the Arboretum's famous red elm, and then through the field, where he disappeared into the distance. Those are his footprints in the snow. In just a few minutes, they were gone.

I am not much for people pictures, but I do like a lone figure against the landscape. It says something about the human condition, I think. What it is to be alone in the world, and yet part of everything.

This may have been the last picture I took of him. The point where the man is standing in this shot is where I often stand in the morning, looking back through the red elm into the breaking light, gathering courage and inspiration to face my day.

So for some reason, this picture (in my mind at least) sort of represents me, in the same way that the girl walking in a snowstorm did two weeks ago. (Did you know that when people tell you a story, they are often telling you more about themselves than they are probably telling you about any other truth?)

The Penn State's president's house is next to the Arboretum, and it features a beautiful row of trees that I just can't stop photographing. There is a picturesque fence that runs along it, and the snow was accumulating on both fence and trees. You may see that photo in the extras.

My usual habit is to select a song to accompany my pictures. I learned upon arriving at work on this morning of the passing of John Wetton, former member of King Crimson and current lead singer of the rock supergroup ASIA. His soaring vocals lit up my life and rocked my world.

I was fortunate to see ASIA at the State Theatre just a few years ago and hear him in person. First and only time. So to accompany these wintry Pennsylvania images, here are some of my favorite ASIA songs to commemorate his passing. Rock on, John.

Days Like These
Voice of America
The Smile Has Left Your Eyes
Heat of the Moment

Wildest Dreams
Only Time Will Tell
Sole Survivor
Go
Daylight
Don't Cry