Attempting to walk from Batavia north to Geneva along side the river I soon came to a tall cyclone fence.  Private property.  I turned around along with another couple who likely had the same intention as I.  I’ll simply have to find another way to walk northward along the river to Geneva.  There’s the opposite bank of the river for another day.

This early in March the sun is warming, the breeze brisk — the out of doors beckons.  Change is afoot. The chill of winter has broken, the earth’s axis begins to tilt.  The sun, the great god that it is, begins to warm the earth. There is music in the air.  Migrating birds begin to make an appearance.  I think they begin the day with their very best, most widely requested songs.  At least that’s how it sounds to my ear at 5:30AM in the day.

I walked over to the Fabyan Japanese Garden which remains closed to public access until May.  The garden is small for a garden with public admittance.  Standing by the perimeter fence, my mind goes back many years in memory to the Meiji shrine and garden in Tokyo.  The Fayban Japanese garden is gem-like by comparison to the acres of effulgent beauty of the Meiji Garden.  Yet the tori gate looks the same.  This small expression of reverence for nature is protected by the same gods.

Much of the garden and the tea house is visible from the path which surrounds the garden.  There is no need to enter if you want to photograph the moon bridge, the big stone toro-lantern, the waterfall and pool.  I was lucky to arrive on the day when the ice was melting from the surface of the reflecting pool that flows under the moon bridge.  The eye loves to frame the evanescent glow of sun rays penetrating the translucent surface of the ice, through the camera lens.  I tried several angles of view and felt satisfied to secure the memory of one day in March at this spot, — the day when the ice melted from the pool under the moon bridge. 

Approaching the parking lot another photographer called out, “Did you get any good shots?”  I sent him to the Japanese garden.

[Ought this diminutive garden be open to public access at any time of the year?  Given we American’s overweening sense of entitlement, would it not be best that the garden be preserved for viewing at a distance?]