Vignettes of Poughkeepsie: Mills Mansion, Sunday, January 29th, 5:30 p.m.

The grounds are essentially empty. Silence is broken only by strong gusts of winds shaking dead trees awake. The long, sprawling lawn in front of the aged mansion is all but dead with a thin layer of snow blanketing its surface. The late-afternoon sun begins to fade behind the hills across the river, casting a beacon of light on the water. The sky turns a cotton-candy color, clouds swirling around it. Although daylight is fading, the path further into a darker, wooded area is surprisingly inviting.

The sound of whipping wind is overpowered by bells jingling in the distance. Further down the path, a woman wraps her face in a blanket and keeps her eyes towards the ground as her dog scurries ahead of her on a metal leash. She buries her hands in her pockets as she waits for the dog to run back to her, swiping it up in her arms. She wants to get to her car sooner rather than later.

Down toward the water, a young girl holds onto an older man’s hand. He steadies her as she reaches down to touch her fingertips to the water, quickly pulling them out. “I told you, it’s too cold,” he says to her. She goes to touch it a second time and her reaction is the same. “Put your gloves back on,” the man says sternly. He holds out the glove as the small girl tries to navigate her frozen fingers inside.

On the way out, the sun has mostly disappeared. The trees are darkened shadows against a purple sky, eerie and beautiful all at the same time. Although the park gates are about to close for the evening, birds make one final swoop across the sky, inviting everyone back tomorrow.