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branchandrootOkay, I’m a cocktail and a half into the evening, so let’s talk about place. The place you grow up, the place you most identify with (not necessarily the same place, those two) shape your comfort.
I’ve always been a forest girl. I need trees around me, trees to shelter under and soften the horizon, but also clearings to see the sky, and sometimes height to see the shape of the land spread out around me. Mountains make me claustrophobic with all that mass on the horizon, and plains make me twitchy with the lack of cover.
This is what means that skyscrapers around me read like mountains. Too tall, too much, too closing in. And fields that aren’t small and bounded with trees, or block after block of houses with nothing taller than a shrub, read to me as plains. Too open, too flat, too bare. I need trees, trees, trees. Comfort is driving under branches, seeing the sun rise and set through lace, knowing how the sky changes through the day while having a couple storeys tugged in close like a blanket around me.
So being in shadow while the sky is still blue and brushed with the last sun… that’s proper evening, to me.
And when the lights come on in the trees of Main Street, it will be the perfect evening.
(And there they are. ^_^)
I’ve always been a forest girl. I need trees around me, trees to shelter under and soften the horizon, but also clearings to see the sky, and sometimes height to see the shape of the land spread out around me. Mountains make me claustrophobic with all that mass on the horizon, and plains make me twitchy with the lack of cover.
This is what means that skyscrapers around me read like mountains. Too tall, too much, too closing in. And fields that aren’t small and bounded with trees, or block after block of houses with nothing taller than a shrub, read to me as plains. Too open, too flat, too bare. I need trees, trees, trees. Comfort is driving under branches, seeing the sun rise and set through lace, knowing how the sky changes through the day while having a couple storeys tugged in close like a blanket around me.
So being in shadow while the sky is still blue and brushed with the last sun… that’s proper evening, to me.
And when the lights come on in the trees of Main Street, it will be the perfect evening.
(And there they are. ^_^)
