John Berger writes, "Urban living has always tended to produce a sentimental view of nature. Nature is thought of as a garden, or a view framed by a window, or as an arena of freedom. Peasants, nomads, sailors have known better. Nature is energy and struggle. It is what exists without any promise. . .its energy is fearsomely indifferent." ("The White Bird", Sense of Sight)
I read this and think of my soul's pull towards Henry County, Kentucky and wonder what I am after as I browse the real estate ads and listings for vacant land. I am especially interested in the impossible-to-finance acreage-without-edifice. Among my many recent lessons: banks do not finance land if there is no house on it. Would a bank finance a yurt. . .? The scheming commences. . .
Henry Co. is not wild; the land was allotted to man by man long ago, but it is my way station between city sidewalks and the open ocean or an encounter with a bear. I need to step outside with my morning coffee and commune with some fearsomely indifferent land. And a wild sheep or two.
Friday evening, at Menagerie at Shine, I bought upcycled pot holders from Lunar Laundry. Little abstract landscapes:
Yesterday's passenger: Maude. She is on her way to rescue in Minnesota.