Consider ecstasy: standing beside oneself. There are things that seem to pull us out of ourselves and our ruminations — or, perhaps I should say “our” ruminations — for there is an autonomous and almost impersonal life to the currents of thought that stream through our consciousness. The weather — the darkening skies, the leaves blown sideways, the ping of rain on glass — attracts and holds our attention and displaces (for a time) whatever tape-loop of anxiety currently seems to be at the top of one’s playlist.
It’s the same thing with taking pictures of weeds, I realized yesterday: looking about with squirrel mind, waiting for the frisson of attraction (red leaf, acorn, berry) to animate the arm that holds the camera and the eye that peers through the lens. I am storing up caches of images against an instinctually anticipated great hunger and long winter night.
I live in an Appalachian hollow in the Juniata watershed of central Pennsylvania, and spend a great deal of time walking in the woods. Here’s a bio. All of my writing here is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. For attribution in printed material, my name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact me for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).