I am not sure why I brought Aki to this mountain meadow. Bare of snow, scoured by storm, the meadow offers little reason for us to lean into the wind. While Aki works her way back to the car, I spot a clue as to what drew me here in one of the little ponds that dots the muskeg. An inch of water covers the pond’s opaque-white ice covering. Dead, tan-colored lily pads have spaced themselves evenly over the surface. Between the pads, I can make out the reflection of avalanche chutes on the ridge bordering the meadow. The ice reflection displays a beauty I can’t find on the ridge.

Before driving here, I read that Plato thought our senses limited our ability to accurately perceive actual objects (he called them universals). Above the pond, the “universal” looks as fuzzy as one of Plato’s metaphoric shadows. The reflection is almost as crisp as the ridge would look on sunny day. My camera can’t capture it as well as my eyes. I know Plato would point out that while I might prefer the reflected image of the ridge, I do not gain a better understanding of the ideal ridge by studying it. (How does he know?) But, the two, conflicting images of the same ridge support his theory. Plato views might be logical, but why should we embrace a philosophy that doesn’t allow for magic like that reflected in the pond. I agree with Aristotle. Nothing is served by Plato’s effort to distinguish between the world of ideas and the world of things.