In 1958 the family moved to Buffalo, NY for my father’s work. We settled in a rented home just outside of Hamburg. This was the equivalent of dropping a city kid(s) into the woods with an Olympic-size swimming pool to boot.

To the south of the yard there were woods and bogs that went on uninterrupted forever; when forever meant one got bored or dinner was ready. To the north, the street was a large rectangle one mile in circumference. Houses ringed the block; the one empty one a great fort. The interior was a forest of large oaks strung with the kind of vines Tarson swung on and we emulated. To the east and west were farm fields. They were the perfect place to sneak a cigarette with friends under a shady tree.

Buffalo and Hamburg are in a unique setting on the east end of Lake Erie. Prevailing winds and cold temperatures meant extreme snow events. The most unique produced large snowflakes that glowed as they fell from sunny, blue skies.

Les Nympheas de Pixel reminds me of the freedom and adventures a fifth grader had with new friends in new places doing new things.