Planning a continuation of this past post. Wanted to share a quote that helps get my thoughts started & as always, it’s a good thing to honor someone who can articulate your same thoughts in a better way.
The final paragraph from Michael Martone’s essay “Country Roads Lined With Running Fences”:
12. Here’s your hat; what’s your hurry? A sense of place is a complex idea confounded by our relationship to it. We all labor to resolve two opposing forces in our lives. On one hand we have a desire to be rooted, to belong–literally to be long–in a place. On the other hand, we wish to be free of those connections, to keep moving through. As with all compelling conflicts, this one is not easily resolved, probably not to be resolved. People now move far more than they stay put. By moving we find it easier to ignore those limits imposed on our lives. The fences on either side of the road seem more like a chute channeling us on to some wonderful future. To have a sense of place is to sense limits, to sense our own deaths, a specific plot of ground where we will be buried and where our bodies will become part of the plot of ground. By accepting the limits a place imposes, we gain the ability to leave a mark. By being part of a place, we become it.