Ever have one of those days sitting in the sun and it seems to shine the same way it did when you were a kid?
Perhaps the scent of pine needles or fresh cut grass in your nose is all it takes to be between reverie and déjà vu.
At Little Lake, with its flat and quiet calm from early dawn to evening, we can capture that sense and be transported however briefly. It contains us in its embrace and asks no more than to continue in silence. Walk here early morning or evening as an antidote to that insistent world.
Given as a gift to the Town of Midland, to remain as a park in perpetuity, to this day and for scores of days these trees will shelter and provide solace to lovers and poets. Midland, known for both, here and abroad.
In spite of efforts to monetize the asset, the hydroplanes and bubble machines have been resisted by a phalanx of grey-haired activists….likely those same poets and lovers mentioned earlier.
In our haste to get to where we are going, Little Lake halts us in our tracks.
As T.S.Eliot says,
“And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”
René Hackstetter, July 29, 2022.
