Being in and from a place is a kind of bias—a bias born of being sensually bathed in a place. Partly an evolution, partly a phenomenon of the natural world. Our place's fields are green, its forest smells of tree sap, and its sky is full of water falling gently on the fields and forest. We use visual spacial relationships to establish a sense of place. We form a scale of place based on our bodies.

Mowing the fields and feeding the birds at the bird feeder have become the soundtrack to my summer days. When I consider all the pains of being a landowner, I wonder if it is worth it or not. Now I see my confusion; it is not my place but the place that possesses me.

The shades of springtime cover a broad spectrum of greens. The falling rain becomes water for morning coffee.

I'm trying to understand the reasons this place has captured my imagination. It has turned imagination into life—the alchemy of myself and the place.

This is a short piece of creative flash non-fiction to be filed under the “Is this anything?” It's unpolished open for your consideration and comment.

Previously
Imagination can't meet reality — kestrelcreek.com
Creative Writing — kestrelcreek.com

References

• Ehrlich, Gretel. The Solace of Open Spaces. Penguin Books, 1986. pg.96
• Snyder, Gary. The Practice of the Wild : Essays. Shoemaker & Hoard, 2004. pg.69