So I finally went to my spot by myself. Why myself and other humans always think we need constant companionship even if it's with a dog baffles me. But nevertheless, I went alone. It had been raining all night and the day was still pretty overcast always with the threat of rain. I think fall days like these are kind of nice, it's spooky like Halloween sort of. Walking though "the gates" as I call them, or the start of the trail to my spot, I felt like I was in a movie or something. Walking through this clearing, in my little trench-coat all by myself. There was such a stillness you could feel the stale air just hanging there waiting to cling to your bones. It was frigid.
I wondered what I had to learn today since I had no one here in front of me to "teach" me something new. I would have to do the work myself today. I didn't want to run and be carefree, I didn't feel like getting muddy and ruining my boots. So I started poking around and looking at things, not just looking but observing.
The grass below me feet instead of being dry and sharp, and scratchy was wet and covered in gigantic maple leaves that had started to curl. There was one particular blade of grass that stuck out (okay I know that sounds silly and probably over the top) but there was one that was bigger than all the others and on it were three drops of dew, or rather, rain. It's something you always see in pictures as screen savers for computers or cell phones, but to see it in real life is almost kind of funny because I'm always used to seeing it on a screen. I almost feel silly for talking about it. It's something so simple and obvious, but I guess I just haven't taken so much time to notice lately.
In writing this particular entry, I wish I could be more scientific in my writing like Haskell, but that's just not who I am. Some days you just want to write about the world as you see it.
Kylie,
ReplyDeleteI am not scientific like Haskell either, and my mind has trouble wrapping itself around some of the detailed scientific processes he describes in the book. I like how you focused on the grass and the dew because we usually do not take notice of things we see all the time. Very unique and interesting approach!
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ReplyDeleteHi Kylie.
ReplyDeleteI have two comments.
One, I really liked that you began to explore this experience of being alone versus being with others. I believe there is great beauty and power in 'aloneness'. The original definition of the word alone is "all one". For me, knowing that kind of puts a different twist on the perspective of the experience.
Two, you wrote:
"There was one particular blade of grass that stuck out (okay I know that sounds silly and probably over the top) but there was one that was bigger than all the others and on it were three drops of dew, or rather, rain".
I didn't find this at all silly or over-the-top. In fact, this was the part I liked the most. I enjoyed seeing this one blade of grass you were seeing and experiencing the dew drops on it with you. I liked that you took me, the reader, into this detail, where I could start to imagine the essence of the space.
I like the idea of "the gates," sort of framing your place, or working as an entryway to your nature place. I think that maybe the world changes after you pass through the gates.
ReplyDeletePart of the change is seeing things that you wouldn't see anyway. Noticing those drops on the blade of grass-- that's really perceptive, and it's the type of thing that I think we are more apt to notice, if left alone, without stimulation or distraction from other people. But even then, I think it's really interesting how you liken that image from the natural world to something we're used to seeing in the technological (man-made) world. How interesting that the experience you had had with that image before then was on a computer or cell-phone screen. I think it would be a sort of revelation to actually see that and notice it in real life...
Jody wrote:
ReplyDeleteI didn't find this at all silly or over-the-top. In fact, this was the part I liked the most. I enjoyed seeing this one blade of grass you were seeing and experiencing the dew drops on it with you. I liked that you took me, the reader, into this detail, where I could start to imagine the essence of the space.
Likewise, I gravitated toward this observation as well, as it does help us "imagine the essence of the space." I also appreciate getting your own essence of surprise and wonder at noticing the larger significance of such a seemingly small detail.
I really liked this line, "There was such a stillness you could feel the stale air just hanging there waiting to cling to your bones." I almost shivered myself!
ReplyDeleteIn my experience, it takes practice to spend time by yourself. I'm glad that you were able to experience your place more fully as a result!
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ReplyDeleteSo, there were several lines I really appreciated ... "There was such a stillness you could feel the stale air just hanging there waiting to cling to your bones. It was frigid" and "I would have to do the work myself today." They stood out to me because of the word choice and order you used--cool! They also added a touch of music to the piece (especially with the shortness of the "frigid" line). This piece was fun to read.
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