I went to a wonderful park yesterday called
World’s End. There was a very deserted feel to the place since the trees and ground were mostly barren. Indeed, World’s End turned out to be a great name for it because of this. You’d think that taking photos in a park still marked with the scars of winter would yield uninteresting results, but I was surprised by the beauty of the place. Below are a few of my favorite shots. Enjoy!
Fenced In
I approached cautiously this fence by the sea, white and weathered from years of snow and sun. No doubt erected for the sea’s own protection from those who come to admire. I couldn’t help but wonder, who dared cross this mild separation between dirt and beauty abound. Surely I would have tried, but the sky’s warnings overpowered the enticing glimmer of the golden shore below. I cautiously moved on…
Blue Lagoon
A reward for my prudence quickly materialized before me in this near-blue lagoon of winter’s release. I paused to admire the transition as I watched the water open its eyes once again to the reflections of the endless sky – A beautiful treaty signed with the light of spring. The trees, still timid, refused to uphold their end of the bargain and cowered in fear while they conversed among themselves the exact method of their protest. I, not understanding their language… moved on.
The Path
And so it was that this path laid before me was to be anything but known. Though clearly marked and traveled by, the unfriendly air, no doubt caused by the trees’ contempt, warned me of the dangers which lay ahead. With my tripod to defend me I carried on!
View by the Sea
To my surprise I met with one individual who refused to conform to his comrades’ disposition of dissent. As an offering of peace I was given a seat by the sea on which to reflect. I paused only for a moment to soak in the howling wind and changing skies. I collected my belongings and bid my new friend farewell as he warned me of the dangers ahead.
Golden Beach
Dangers they were, for the sky had grown angry at the insistence of the trees’ dissent and had begun to envelop the light of peace while the sea’s tears trickled onto the barren shore. The industrial landscape (Boston!) to the left of the protesters watched with me in horror. Saddened by this sight I proceeded to my final destination.
World’s End
The focal point of my journey had come to fruition in this fruitless landscape of total, and beautiful, war. A golden wasteland enveloped by the flowing sky, and surrounded by the weeping sea, entranced my every thought. I had arrived at the World’s End and though I had met some friendly faces along the way, I left the warmongers quietly in hopes that I may soon find its beginning.
We start with the shimmering ugliness of a T misplaced. In the heart of the city surrounded by beauty and water, this structure claims as its resting point the World Trade Center. Though it is unwelcome here, the vibrant reflections of that which surrounds it ripple throughout its core. And in reflecting beauty, it too garners the attention of passers by, if only for a misplaced moment.
Polished Glory
As if to prove its worth after I have finished berating its existence, the T confronts me with this monster of an elevator which leads to the rat infested depths below. Deceiving this T is, so polished in its glory and in perfect tune with the sky, promising nothing but treasures for those who approach while delivering only darkness. I am captivated by this eternal paradox for surely it will retain its command over my sleepless nights.
A Spectator Sport
Just when I think I can move on from this strange place, I look around me and notice street lights matched perfectly in height with the glorious T. So perfect in fact that it seems as though their existence was mutually conceived in an effort to entertain the surrounding spectators. And entertain they do, for even the sky cheers with the crowds below.
