Malleability

I snapped this picture when I was in Boston over the weekend to visit one of my best friends (and to take a long-deserved respite from Manhattan and other things...I know, so traitorous). I think it's my favorite one of the set, but not for reasons one would assume. Kayla and I had spent all of Saturday afternoon walking around Brookline when we decided to meander through a nearby park. We found ourselves in front of what was supposed to be a nature sanctuary, but really just looked like a murky swamp totally devoid of visible lifeforms. No exaggeration. We lingered for a bit, wondering if that orange speck across the pond was really a bird (it turned out to be just an orange flag staked into the ground -- fail), I took a quick picture, and we moved on. Which is why I was so caught off guard last night when I went through my album again and stumbled upon this picture. It took a second glance to realize that this was the same unassuming lake we had both so quickly written off this weekend.
Sometimes it surprises me how malleable one's memory can be. After seeing the lake again, I wasn't so sure how I felt about it the first time, or what it really looked like after all. Part of me trusts my initial instincts that the lake really wasn't this lush and gorgeous, and that only a combination of perfect lighting and perfect timing could depict it as such. But a growing part of me is also becoming more and more swayed by this one picture. In my mind, it's what I want this lake to look like.
Everything looks better in retrospect. I don't know what I'm saying anymore.