A bigger world
Updated: May 20, 2018
Last night Snorre took me to a small island in a creek about a kilometer from his house. It was dark, dark, dark, until I realized that the stars were out which illuminated the grass and trees in front of us just enough to get by.
Stars, that I could see. When's the last time that happened?
It was chilly enough for a jacket, but only just. With each step in the forest I smelled rich mud and fresh water and a little bit of tree bark and nature. Even still, the world was covered not in the green that my nose told me I should be seeing, but in grey, black and blue. Depth was hard to grasp, and the bridge to the island looked tall until we got close enough to see it was just the angle from our approach.
When I imagine exploring a new world, this is the image in my head. A mix of the familiar and the unfamiliar, on the edge of surreal and not quite crossing the threshold into fear. A place that makes you feel tiny, but the smaller you are, the bigger the world is, and a bigger world is a far more interesting one.
We stood awhile at the water's edge, staring off at the blue, black and grey, everything so still and untouched and so much bigger than us.