Past the budding trees and down the stairs beneath the old railroad. I walk through a familiar landscape: the ball field, the tennis courts and through the fence to a quiet enclave of houses. I suspect they’re rehabilitated worker cottages from earlier days, when the pond was worked for ice. An old ice house still remains and has be
converted to a Boys and Girls Club. I meet a gravel path just past the small parking lot and am in Spy Pond Park.
The park is just coming to life at this time of the year with budding trees and a body of water that’s still fresh and clean. Ducks and geese roam the banks and the old, bent trees dip gracefully into the water.
This is the pond, my five minute retreat from the world. There are other people here, but mostly it’s me, accompanied by bird song.
It’s peaceful and I need peace. More than that I need a place that’s blossoming to natural life.
Can you hear the birds?