Home Ground


in land, we see metaphors

whispers and murmurs of the human condition

Landscape is an inadequate word, pictures of places, picturesque views, idealised visions,

documentations and inventories of places we would like to be, or which move us.

Most landscapes we see are like this. They assure us that nature is benevolent, or that it ‘has its place’.

But that great big sublime green thing out there, outside the window, outside ALL windows has another side.

It can also snarl and bite. It can ask uncomfortable questions.

It can make us examine ideas which are sometimes inconvenient. It can inflict real pain as well as joy.

That rain, soft and gentle on a summers evening can also lash at our faces with fingers of ice.

The land bears traces of its occupants, traces which seem to come from everywhere in general and nowhere in particular. Landscapes form an outer rim to our selves, and they are well connected. The flotsam of the world washed ashore by the tides is an apt metaphor for our lives, constantly fragmenting and dissolving, returning once again to nature, patinating the outer rim of our perceptions of the world.

A rim of broken images.

We live on the land.

We make marks upon it, and it marks us...

This site is my patch of virtual ground for holding thoughts about my own and common lands.

Landscapes lie in many dimensions:

space : time : weather : mind : myth