What changes?

I can remember coming here, I can remember walking here often over the years. It is quiet amid the million greens, and I take in the reflection of trees and more. Yes, I know what is hidden just beyond sight, hidden and surrounding this dark and comfortable place.

Are both real? Yes, both are real. I come to this place, this urban primeval sundered from the fast city and welcoming the return of foot-tangling vines and plants native and otherwise. Yes, that's the place. And yet, It is not far from my warm, bright, electrical home to this place.

Walking here, remembering this place that is both far away and so close to my everyday world, I imagine the wild ones walking, crawling, flying, finding this place, recognizing it, making it home, bringing a distinct reality to this spot.

And I wonder at what our people have done. What of it can be undone, what is irreversible, it's impossible for me to know. Yet, at this moment, it doesn't matter, it is all the same: everything changes or nothing changes.  

I walk around this pond, this simple body of city water that hides behind the parkway, behind the more familiar pavement. It is sufficient that it is here, that it was here and it will be here. That's all that is needed.

Blessings,

Marco