Seashore. The edge of a forest. Dusk, when the sun has set but the sky is still light.
Some cultures held these as holy places, where two things could dance at each other's edges and peer beyond. In the between places, black and white swirled and twisted, and, every so often, fused together into seamless silver-grey.
I find the notion more comforting than a simple doorway. When there is a threshold so narrow and rigid, one must step over it all at once - granted, one might retreat in uncertainty, but there is no comfortable space where one might choose both outside and inside. I'm not fond of doorways. I'd rather wander along the edge of the sea, sand and shells and foam about my feet, before slipping farther out into the waves. Light's gentle fading into darkness is sweeter, to me, than a switch being flipped by a casual hand.
There is the danger, there, of course. Some people, entranced, might never leave the between places, choosing both one and the other and, perhaps saddest, never fully experience either. There are some who would not even venture out that far, keeping a wary guard on the unknown.
And yet for myself - for myself - I will take the seashore.
Some cultures held these as holy places, where two things could dance at each other's edges and peer beyond. In the between places, black and white swirled and twisted, and, every so often, fused together into seamless silver-grey.
I find the notion more comforting than a simple doorway. When there is a threshold so narrow and rigid, one must step over it all at once - granted, one might retreat in uncertainty, but there is no comfortable space where one might choose both outside and inside. I'm not fond of doorways. I'd rather wander along the edge of the sea, sand and shells and foam about my feet, before slipping farther out into the waves. Light's gentle fading into darkness is sweeter, to me, than a switch being flipped by a casual hand.
There is the danger, there, of course. Some people, entranced, might never leave the between places, choosing both one and the other and, perhaps saddest, never fully experience either. There are some who would not even venture out that far, keeping a wary guard on the unknown.
And yet for myself - for myself - I will take the seashore.
1 comment:
...And I shall take the forest. *grins* Sorry you weren't feeling well this morning. I hope you're better now. I say, those blades you showed me this morning were simply smashing! Beauties, both.
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