A couple of days ago, I was sitting on my board out in the water, waiting for a good wave to come in, looking at the landscape -- which is more deeply embedded in my psyche each day -- and realized that I could be truly happy living in Dunedin. The town and surrounding countryside, the schools for the kids, the outdoor adventure, the list goes on.
Montana offers the same ingredients, plus family, and a deep, longstanding connection. We went to see True Grit the other night, and the shots of the mountainous, arid American West made me long for home. Still, I am captured by the new places and experiences to be had here. Watching the ocean swell and wind and imagining which beach has the best waves, then going there (often to a little-visited spot) and either being right or wrong, but no matter what finding myself in a remarkable place, and getting some exercise to boot: this has become a joyful activity for me, and I fear that I will miss dearly.
The human individual falling in love with a place on the earth is an interesting phenomena. I have a deep love of Montana, so I know the sensation, but it's an old love, and I don't remember it happening. Here in Dunedin I can watch myself.
What are the ingredients of love of place? It'll be different for everyone. For me, natural beauty is a primary ingredient. I find myself saying frequently here, `This must be the most beautiful place on earth.' But then immediately, 'Though the weather leaves something to be desired.' This juxtaposition defines Dunedin somehow. It keeps the hordes away, makes the people a little grumpy, but also keeps an excess of pretention at bay, leaving room for a wide range of folks. Given my roots in Butte, for me to love a town, it needs to have 'grit', and Dunedin definitely does.
Coming here, I wanted new experiences and have gotten them. What I didn't consider was that I might build a way of life unique to this place, tied to the landscape, and that I would not want to leave it behind. I fear that this will be the case. Alas, I can't live in two places at once. But we must open ourselves to love, even though loss and a broken heart are then inevitable.
3 comments:
Here's my mother's response to this blog:
Falling in love with a place--interesting concept.
Made me wonder what places I have fallen in love with.
Like you, Butte is deep in my heart and bones, for the town itself, my heritage, my roots.
Butte is like my geographical mother--connection beyond expression, always there even if I leave.
I have a deep affection for my house, even though I feel overwhelmed by all that needs doing and consequently do nothing.
Still, every day I thank God for that little haven, and when I walk in it feels like a friend.
With Chug's spirit there to greet me.
I had/have a love for Hungry Horse, the Flathead, Glacier--for many reasons.
The anticipation of the first view of the Missions.
Thoughts of the cabin strike poignantly at my heart.
It would be nice to fall in love with a place.
I hope when I die it's in a place that I love.
Thanks for the reflections. It is interesting that learning to surf on the other side of the planet holds the same truths as singletrack riding here.
This is a great post!
After reading I too had to think about the places I love. Montana will always be the one that got away. I think being raised in MT and having a childhood that was strongly influenced by the outdoors of MT shaped the way I see other places.
It would be much harder for me to fall in love with a city that has no escape to the mountains, then to fall in love with a small cabin deep in the woods. But after 13 years away from MT I think I will need a little bit of both to keep me happy.
Great post John!
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