Last night I came back from downtown on the bus and walked home through the park. There were very few people on the paths; I was alone with the snow and the dark trees. On the white lakes below me, skaters moved silently; small notes on a large page of music, while under the lights of the rinks, sticks and blades thwacked and sliced: wooden sticks and steel brushes beating rhythms on the city's stretched, white, oval skin.
Oh! That is a touch of sheer magic.
Posted by: Tom | February 26, 2014 at 12:55 PM
Oh, so beautiful, Beth! Words and images alike.
I love On the white lakes below me, skaters moved silently; small notes on a large page of music and wooden sticks and steel brushes beating rhythms on the city's stretched, white, oval skin.
Posted by: Rachel Barenblat | February 26, 2014 at 07:09 PM
Oh, the light! The dark! The caught movement! I love these shots. . .
Posted by: Frances/Materfamilias | February 26, 2014 at 09:48 PM
You reminded me that I haven't been skating on the common yet this winter (a 5 year tradition!), something I'll need to remedy.
Posted by: Chris | February 27, 2014 at 10:10 AM
I love those raspy rink sounds, which carry so much better at night without the ambient traffic noise. Years ago I lived next door to a small city rink; a city worker on skates would flood the ice at night and sing spirituals while doing his work.
Posted by: Duchesse | February 27, 2014 at 09:33 PM
In the top picture, the pair skating next to each other seem to be rising above their respective inner, or former, Calibans.
It's inspiring how you catch these moments with a photograph and an equally redolent short text.
Posted by: Peter | February 27, 2014 at 10:34 PM
Lovely winter night!
Posted by: Hattie | March 01, 2014 at 12:16 AM