The hills that day, to the north of us as we worked, were heart-ache, soul-ecstasy-beautiful. I have never seen anything like them; dark blue clouds misting upon low, smooth crowns, like some moor in an old English novel, like I'd imagined the heath in "The Secret Garden".
I wanted to be in the middle of it. But I suppose it might not have been as pretty, beheld as a tiny human from far away, lent god-sight by proximity and imagination. My favorite way to observe landscape much of the time is from the passenger seat of a car moving rapidly down the road, my eyes acting as fingers and hands feeling the geography. In my mind, feeling the ground and trees with fingers and hands that exist only in my eyes.
I desperately wished I'd had a camera of some sort, or my iphone. But I rarely take technology on jobs, especially that far away, so I have only my memory and whatever I manage to put down in writing.
I wanted to be in the middle of it. But I suppose it might not have been as pretty, beheld as a tiny human from far away, lent god-sight by proximity and imagination. My favorite way to observe landscape much of the time is from the passenger seat of a car moving rapidly down the road, my eyes acting as fingers and hands feeling the geography. In my mind, feeling the ground and trees with fingers and hands that exist only in my eyes.
I desperately wished I'd had a camera of some sort, or my iphone. But I rarely take technology on jobs, especially that far away, so I have only my memory and whatever I manage to put down in writing.
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