The Way Back to Little Long Pond

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Little Long Pond was not a new place to me. It was one of the old constants — a place from childhood, from fishing trips, bike rides, sledding, swimming, dogs, family, and all the small memories that stay attached to a landscape long after you think you have forgotten them.

When life came apart, I found myself coming back here. I think I was grounding myself without fully knowing it, returning to a place that had known me before everything got complicated. The fog on the water felt right for that season of life: quiet, half-hidden, but still beautiful.

It had been too many years, but I could still find the path in the dark.

Recommended Format:
Satin MetalPrint with Metal Float Hanger

Format:

Little Long Pond was not a new place to me. It was one of the old constants — a place from childhood, from fishing trips, bike rides, sledding, swimming, dogs, family, and all the small memories that stay attached to a landscape long after you think you have forgotten them.

When life came apart, I found myself coming back here. I think I was grounding myself without fully knowing it, returning to a place that had known me before everything got complicated. The fog on the water felt right for that season of life: quiet, half-hidden, but still beautiful.

It had been too many years, but I could still find the path in the dark.

Recommended Format:
Satin MetalPrint with Metal Float Hanger