Common ground

Gregory Conniff’s photographs in his book “Common Ground” are quite remarkable, for they are about those inconspicuous interstices in our neighborhoods and our lives where the mystery of childhood often resided — wooded, overgrown, weed-clogged, broken-down picket fence lanes, alleys and backyards that constituted the known world when we were young.

How spacious and grand these little particularities in the geography of youth seemed as we ran in pursuit of perceived enemies, and engaged in various games and adventures common to a certain age. Dark, shaded streets, sidewalks and porches a mere block or two over were truly terra incognita, and venturing to those areas was to engage the unknown, to be in another country, as it were, beyond our proscribed known universes. But how we wanted to push the limits and explore!

Now, as we get older, we become settled within our comfortable borders and find ourselves looking out onto the world beyond. It takes something that may be lost in us now to break free and sample the fresh air and new environs of elsewhere, as we once did with such passion and enthusism, abandoning ourselves to the simplest and most natural thing in the world — living life fully and with few, if any, preconceived expectations.

(Written Feb. 12, 2000)

I’m laughing, but not at you. I just finished watching the movie “The Burbs” on tv. I can’t get it out of my mind, and then I come here and you are writing about houses. You know, perhaps God sent me here to heal from that movie. I grew up in a bungalow in Colorado and I was raised by my grandmother. You bring back good memories! Home is where the heart is, and my grandma.

This entry made me think of my childhood, some sweet memories from long ago! Beautiful! Thanks! :o)

Bramble

November 17, 2001

I miss the freedom of childhood, where I could roam at will through my neighborhood.

🙂

I think sometimes you sound very nostalgic 🙂 It’s ok.

I like the sound of that book. I wish I could just get to “elsewhere.”

Acting with no expectations–sounds like my Japanese philosophy class.

I often think of the way things looked when I was young and the despondancy I feel when I see them changed but then I think that on this day, some other child is making a memory in the here and now and know that for what passes that something else comes. Great entry as always.

Twice read, and two more times to go before I can post a coherent note 😉 Oh, and you have mail…

I know this book! And it is wonderful…it’s all of nature, our back yards and alleys, that some of us will ever know…I do believe it can bring us comfort and enhance our love of the environment. I adore the photos of tree bark peeling in former back yards and flowers in full bloom that I’ve taken…maybe when I’m old they will comfort me should I not be able to get outside easily. who knows?

Yes, Osweago, let’s keep in touch. As soon as I have an e-mail site, I will e-mail you. I had one before and had some problems so I had to disconnect, and now I am waiting to see if it’s safe to go back into the water. Women have to be more careful then men, I think, on this internet thing. There are some odd ones out there.

“Lving life fully and with few, if any, preconceived expectations.” I wish it came more naturally for me. I have to keep reminding myself of the importance of doing just that. Your entry served as that reminder this time. Thanks.

Oswego, how true! I’ve been wondering recently how this happens. I guess I’d do better to release the search for answers, and just nourish the last few sparks of that wonder and enthusiasm.