urban magic

Since returning home from the countryside, I've felt drawn to explore more warm-heartedly the magic and wild memory that dwells in towns. Today I went out with my camera in the rain and spent an hour dreaming amongst old wood, weedy brick, and doors half-open to strange things (like a small, stone-walled, commercial kitchen that seemed lost inside a clutter of empty offices.) I heard a hundred stories whispering to themselves. And my heart woke up from its maudlin silence to whisper back.




Perhaps the way to begin a conversation with magic is with these words : I wonder ...

I have to admit, the back streets and ramshackle windows of town make me wonder more than the countryside does. I abhor a modern city with concrete skyscrapers and glass for miles - but the old earthy magic of a town, even a downtown of some city, even a town being spruced up but at the rear are all the scraped walls and cracked stone steps - this, it is beautiful to me. And I feel guilty about that, because of course town is a graveyard of trees, mountains, ecosystems. Can I love it while still railing against the massacre of forests, the ruination of the climate, the rampaging selfishness of human civilisation?




I've longed for meadows and woodlands these past few years because I've believed that's where the true magic lies, and because it has seemed the only good way to live is in the fresh and the wild. But that's been a kind of myopia. I don't want the whole world to be a town. But I wish all the towns were like the back streets, where old things are used until they fall apart, and then they're transformed into something else; and where greenery is nurtured in pots, buckets, on windowsills, between stairs; and where beauty is found in service not sleek beauty.



5 comments:

  1. I love old quiet streets, especially if they're made of stone. But I've had a lot of nice walks in the different neighborhoods I've lived in, in various cities. I loved to look at peoples yards, and kind of read their lives and dreams in them. And in California especially, there was always flowers everywhere. There was always something nice to see. Sometimes I dream of a place where the forest and houses could live together, if that makes sense :D Just blend together in beauty.

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  2. evidence of life lived
    hopefully well lived
    is something to be cherished
    i especially love this in old boots, jeans and cotton shirts

    my eyes sparkle considering this:
    Perhaps the way to begin a conversation with magic is with these words : I wonder ...

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  3. There is beauty everywhere in different forms. The last few decades I have lived deep in the countryside but prior to this I lived in towns, cities and suburbia. Each held its own fascination which I loved at the time - the countryside just offers a different kind of fascination.

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  4. I love seeing things through you eyes--whether country meadows or the backstreets of suburbia. You make everything beautiful; you do.♥

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  5. living in the middle of Sydney, a huge sprawling city of nearly 5 million souls I have a special love for all the weeds that find a place to grow in the cracks in between...

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