This little lake reminds me of the duck pond in South Orange, New Jersey town where I spent my second decade. Ten years during which most of my travel was by foot. Passing the Pond was part of the trek to school, to dance class, to the community pool. I rarely looked up, paused or even really saw the pond — unless it was frozen and ice skating was allowed.
Now, nearly four decades beyond, I’m back to walking by what I call a pond, the locals call a lake. But this time I take stock, take a photo and lay the imprint of the new over the old and am happy with the result.