A Reflection In The Water
It was during the early days of the pandemic that I took up going on hikes along the Ramapo Mountains back in New Jersey or even just walking around the neighborhood or the local park. The Ramapo mountains were a short fifteen-minute drive from my house and as a kid, my parents would take my brother and I there for hikes and picnics on a random Saturday afternoon. There were lakes, rivers, and even waterfalls that traversed through the mountain. We would always climb to the top and sit on a giant rock overlooking the border of New York and New Jersey before we stopped for our picnic. Hiking and going on walks became a small piece that helped me cope with the craziness of the pandemic and it would eventually become a daily activity. It became nice to reconnect with nature even if it meant just an hour's walk around my neighborhood. If I needed time to destress or to think I would just go on a walk, and I have carried that over while I am at school. What has helped me continue my walking routine was the adoption of a crazy puppy named Pepper. Pepper just turned one a week ago, so she still has so much energy and requires lots of exercise. She has quickly become my walking buddy here at school and leaves me no excuse for not getting outside and connecting to nature.
Taken at the trinity river, a 710-mile river, the longest in Texas. If you have ever seen the trinity river, it is not pellucid whatsoever and recently I have found more and more garbage laying near the river’s edge. At certain parts, it has a distinct smell that is not all that pleasant to the nose, but it still retains much of its natural beauty and is visited by many different species of birds that may sit along the river’s edge.
At the precise time of this snapshot, the sun was the strongest, it was around three in the afternoon and one of the hottest days this week. As I was walking along the trinity right near HG Supply Co. I glanced over to my right and caught a glimpse of the tree’s reflection in the water. It was at this point that I realized that I should take out my phone to snap a photo. When I go on walks, I usually just listen to meditation music and keep my phone in my pocket. I have done this practice for a while now and it is important to disconnect from the technological world and immerse yourself in the natural one around you.
I like this photo because it depicts various elements of nature interacting with our own eyes and perception. The sun's light hits the surface of the water, splitting in two, some of the light is reflected while some of the light is refracted by the water and our eyes see the reflection of the light in the form of the trees in the water. We can see the trees being reflected in the water because they are on the opposite side of the point of reflection. I like the ribboned spiraling clouds in the soft blue sky contrasted with the green from the trees, grass, river, and other fauna. Where the reflection is the best, the water is flat and depressed but the farther you look to the left of the photo, the river becomes more rogue with ripples and the reflection begins to fade.
What a great informative post, thanks! I am glad you mentioned the Ramapo Mountains in New Jersey. Usually, when I think NJ, I think of the shore and the mass urban sprawl surrounding NYC. but I've hiked a bit along the AT in PA and know if runs through a slice of NJ before it gets to NY. I am glad also to hear about Pepper; she sounds delightful, and being a dog lover/owner/walker I understand the companionship of walking with a dog. My dog and I have walked endless miles over the years, but she is now 13 and is satisfied with only a mile or so, not the six-mile walks we used to do. But walks are still her favorite human word--well, next to dinner--and favorite activity. She still gets excited when I start to put on my running shoes. I appreciate the comments about the Trinity. There are stretches of the West Fort through FW that are really trashed. Maybe we should spend a class waling along the Clear Fork and pick up some trash.
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