The Negative Space

 Emerging leaves of Virginia waterleaf, Musconetcong Gorge. 

The emergence of plants every spring is a miracle of sheer explosive life, even the most ancient clad in perfect fresh soft foliage, physically reborn in a way completely inaccessible to our animal experience

 Dormant swards of little bluestem, Brigantine NWR

 The infinity of possibility, the freedom of expanse. Beren is at the beach for the first time, exuberant.

 These diamonds and millions upon millions more. Sunset Beach, Cape May

 Beach plum stem from a copse deeply buried in sand. Sunset Beach, Cape May 

Marsh blue violets, mountain seep, Catskills

 Foamflower, Catskills

View from Giant Ledge, Catskills

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The abyss, the negative space that makes our culture discernible. 

It is not necessarily black but infinite, filled with a darkness that upon intimacy is revealed to be other. Kelp and sand and quartz crystals reflecting the sky, with clouds patterned by the moon and the shape of the waves.

Ungraspeable, uncontrollable abundance. We have myths about abundance, infinity, creation. In our earliest myths of gnosis, we sought knowledge and lost abundance.

We tamed.

Now, we have only a few places that are abundant, that remind us of the infinite. The beach, the mountains. Some thousands of acres of old-growth forest.

We have degraded land, with tracks in the litter and holes where life should be. Our habitat, a murder of humans, a glorification of weeds.

Looking out from Giant Ledge, seeing mountains deeply clad in plant life. Feeling not small but giant, free of society, standing in the sea of possibilities.

It is our birthright. Food, medicine, the companionship of other beings.

The negative space.