Friday, September 28, 2012

A Sense of Place

so i listened to a radio interview with the author Alexandra Fuller today and was slightly perplexed by the interviewer's insistence, as was Fuller i think, that Americans couldn't possibly relate to Fuller's deep attachment to the land she grew up on in Zimbabwe . . . that somehow Americans don't get the idea of being connected to land and that only people who lived in big places like Africa could be grounded in the earth around them. Fuller spoke of recently returning from a visit with her mum and dad in Africa and described the distant sound of hippos, the birds, the bush babies, the light . . . and i couldn't have related more, i am horribly entrenched in my own spot of earth, all 13 acres of it here in Hillsborough and when i visit my mother's farm in South Carolina, my soul sings with the big water birds of the Wateree and the seemingly unstoppable sky of Kershaw county. A sense of place is not lost on us folks who inhabit less spectacular landscapes, on the contrary, I believe a sense of place is what makes so many of us human.

it's thundering now, and i can hear the rain, and the birds have gone quiet . . . it's not Africa, but it'll do.

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