During snowstorms, I cringe when the flashing lights of town trucks blink past on my steep hill. The trucks hurl arcs of huge salt crystals in their wake. Sigh. (No, I do not drink my well water.) However, in the aftermath, the sun reveals an ironic beauty: these crackled mosaics of salt-encrusted pavement.Thank you for the poetic words of William Blake, which always hold strange truths:
Improvement makes straight roads; but the
crooked roads without improvement are
roads of genius.
William Blake, 1757-1827
I'm all for the meander.
The photo was taken yesterday afternoon, 2/12/10. Click on image to enlarge.
