Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Horizons.

Above or below treeline, I ache to see them. It stems from my prairie childhood, I think, this longing to see. And perhaps this is also why my midwest soul likes plans (plans and plains -- any coincidence, do you think, that they are only one letter off?). Homesteaders might not have been the most bohemian, but they dug their heels into those plains, they made plans, they got things done. And for want of land, I inherited those things -- their character. To see far, look the distance, and to know what's coming and when. Judging by the thunder, only minutes. To know how far you have to go, and to be honest with yourself about whether you can. Almost always the answer is yes -- yes you can go that far. Just dig in your heels a little harder. Swear if you have to.

Growing up with a panoramic view (a clear 360 if you stood in one place and ballerina toe-turned), a tunnel of trees suffocated me.....for awhile. I had taken sight -- I had taken horizons -- for granted. But then -- then, I discovered treeline. That magical border which, upon crossing, transports me back to the prairie.

I love this place.

And I showed this place, this line, to my mother. Now she loves it too, and for the exact same reason. "I want to go above treeline" was her request for one day of her visit this past weekend.

"So do I."

And thus we went and found our souls wandering, out on the plains where they always have.....
 

26 comments:

  1. Your post gives one perspective; literally and figuratively. Thank you for that.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Isolated, tranquil.

    True natural beauty.

    Very nice

    ReplyDelete
  3. Erica
    It looks like a truly magical place that would keep me wondering what's over the next hill. My "tree line" is the Canadian Shield, granite outcrops, pine, and water in all directions.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hey Tiny E- sometimes I avoid reading your posts because I actually need time to think about them and digest them. If I don't have the time to do it justice, I avoid coming here. I'm much the poorer for it. All I can say is "Thank You".

    ReplyDelete
  5. "Sometimes I avoid reading your posts because I actually need time to think about them and digest them. If I don't have the time to do it justice, I avoid coming here. I'm much the poorer for it. All I can say is "Thank You". Couldn't have said it better myself.

    ReplyDelete
  6. It was a wonderful visit Erin and I shall look forward to breaking through treeline with you in the future...stress melts away, endless trails beckon, breathing calms to a peaceful rhythm, all seems right with the world, mind uncluttered...pure bliss. Next time let us remember to tote up a thermos of PG-Tips;-)Yes that would be the cherry on top.

    ReplyDelete
  7. You a a true pioneer woman, born about 150 years too late...thankfully. I think you also come from some mighty sturdy stock. (Hi Sue!)

    ReplyDelete
  8. I'm a forest dweller by geographical birthright. I like horizons too, but the comfort of the canopy makes me feel at home.

    ReplyDelete
  9. troutrageous - You're very much welcome....but thank you, for reading. That, gives me perspective on writing...

    Brk Trt - Indeed, I believe one of the truest places on earth...

    John - It keeps you going because although you can see, you still don't know what's ahead until you get there.

    Fontinalis - I'm humbled...and encouraged. Very much so. I find a kindredness of spirits in your words. Thank you, so much...

    Kev - Thank you, for coming and reading and I am always encouraged by your words...

    sgb - We find our bliss there (like the flower ladies!). A thermos of PG-Tips will definitely accompany the next adventure...

    Bill - It surely is! Thanks for stopping by!

    Cofisher - I was. I often think that. And I'm very proud of the stock that bred me. ;)

    Jay - I totally get that...a cover, a nest, a home...

    ReplyDelete
  10. "To know how far you have to go, and be honest with yourself as to whether you can...." Excellent. Midwestern roots has produced a thoughtful and creative person.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Above the tree line you can look out over the horizon and admire the beauty of the world yet feel your own insignificance. There's a place near me where I do just that........ but, there's often an ice cream van parked there which softens the trauma just a enough to make the temporary nature of my existence bearable.

    Another great blog Erin

    ReplyDelete
  12. "just dig in your heels"...i needed that, I've been doing a lot of swearing today :-)

    great post as always.

    ReplyDelete
  13. This one is really good. I guess I say that a lot, but this one is really good. JGR

    ReplyDelete
  14. I love those little alpine bushes! Above the treeline is like the magic place.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Tree lines can be like doors to Narnia........... but you have to be brave enough to go through them :)

    As elegantly put as ever Erin

    ReplyDelete
  16. "Tree lines can be like doors to Narnia"...Thanks Tom. I love that word picture.
    sgb (Erin's Mom)

    ReplyDelete
  17. Herringbone - I'm thankful for my roots...they are what hold me down...

    Dave - Ah, an ice cream above treeline. :) Sounds good to me!

    Sanders - Glad you found some encouragement here... :)

    JGR - A very sincere thanks!

    backcountryfishnerd - I love them too...and somehow they are always taller than they look... ;)

    ReplyDelete
  18. Tom - Those are quite possibly my favorite books...and many times in life I just imagine myself putting on a fur coat, and come what may....it will always be an adventure. My soul always says, 'further up, further in'...

    Like my mom said....I love the word picture you painted....thank you...

    ReplyDelete
  19. Okay.. that's it... you win the personal License plate award.... Ah!-SUM
    Your an excellent writer Erin!

    ReplyDelete
  20. Kevin - Ah thanks! And I've never had a personal license plate before. Cool! ;)

    ReplyDelete
  21. The Australian outback offers those same big skies. I do miss that but at the same time I appreciate the bounty of life that tree cover nurtures. A lovely piece, Erin that gets mine eyes longing for distant focus.

    ReplyDelete
  22. Hart - it is interesting how our horizons change through the years...sometimes confusing, and sometimes very beautiful...

    ReplyDelete
  23. I grew up in Kansas and visited Colorado often. When I lived in Florida I felt suffocated unless I was at the beach where I could see far out into the ocean. I feel that way here in Texas sometimes too. Seems like I can't ever get somewhere where I can just see forever. On trips back to Kansas I turn into a giddy little kid once we reach those beautiful Flint Hills. It's open and rolling and home.

    ReplyDelete
  24. Red - Sometimes I wonder why I left the plains...but then I'm reminded that we can make and find home, wherever we are. And that is comforting indeed.

    ReplyDelete
  25. Indeed it is.

    I think it helps me appreciate the different beauty of each place as well. Growing up I knew those hills were special, I just didn't know how special. Texas has hills but they are a different kind of beauty than those that roll and sway.

    ReplyDelete