Irrepressible Clichés
It is tough to resist the platitude, the tug of a superficially important image. When you see tasty low-hanging fruit, you just grab for it by conditioned reflex. The lone figure on the shore, the lonely tree in a vast undulating meadow; the single red umbrella among an ocean of black ones — it goes on and on like this. To these examples I want to add: Almost Any Pretty Aspen Grove. My donation lies below.
