I am not quite sure where I belong but I have always been engaged with where I am. I like to think this gives me both a resistance to nostalgia and a breadth of perspective but I could be wrong. — Edward Relph (Source: Placeness.com)
Much thinking these end-of-February, beginning-of-March days on seasonality and sense of belonging, on perspective — especially evolving perspectives — and nostalgia, sentimentality, wistful-if-illusory longing.
This icehouse rehab, moving closer and closer to the vision that has beckoned for years, and the snowfall after snowfall after snowfall, such welcome gifts after a fairly light winter. These absorbing present tense plots are playing out against almost eighteen years of Rosslyn custodianship.
Cross-country outings transporting me deep into memories that Susan and I made during our first winters together more than two decades ago. And deeper still, recollections of skiing as a child in the mid 1970s, with my younger brother and sister, with my mother.
I’m learning something about perspective and nostalgia. Something still coalescing.
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