When I was young, maybe 12, I would walk around the pond in Schenectady’s Central Park repeating Psalm 23 with my father. Green pastures, quiet waters, my cup overfloweth, etc. Ten years and a lack of religious overtones later, I found myself wandering past the pond and into the park’s noted Rose Garden with my sister and nephew. I never knew it existed all these years.
The last few weeks have been busy. I’ve been writing a lot and taking photographs, sleeping too little and making meager attempts to organize my life. My walk through the Rose Garden was rejuvenating.
I’ll have more photos up soon of Rose Garden treasures…