A new word for me – “satoyama.” I ran across it in an article:
Revitalizing a Dying Region of Rural Japan with Art
Satoyama refers to traditional rural landscapes, how they benefit and sustain life, not just human life.
Sato – village
Yama – mountain
a place where nature and people exist in harmony…
Greetings from Satoyama
a symbol of terrain where humans and nature coexist in a symbiotic relationship.
Harvest Time in Satoyama
My sense of home has been challenged these past few days, working on getting my parents’ house ready to sell. I lived there six years from 7th grade through high school, and then summers while in college. And visits for many years thereafter.
After cleaning, it’s a whole new place. I only took photos of these two small outbuildings. The ceiling in the well house is so beautiful. I don’t know what will happen to them.
bird’s nest in pulley, well house
The word “home” has been on my mind.
My cell phone has no service where we stay up in Maine. I am unlocated. I can’t record my walks.
We had a sense of dislocation where we stayed, although we are comfortable there. Part of being at home was missing. I’m not sure what this is. We didn’t spread out our belongings.
On the other hand, leaving in the dark of early morning felt like leaving home. Maybe I had made a home in the landscape by walking.
Being at home I notice my negativity toward it. With a sense of humility, I walked in the neighborhood. The humility came from knowing all the people who were at home in the neighborhood. I am one of them.
I think I have felt all my life that where I live is just temporary. Not a home. Is it a deficit in the homemaking instinct? Or my imagination?
At home on the cushion? In the studio? Online? In the office? Where do I feel the strongest sensation of being at home? In the woods? (but not at night)
Leaving Wednesday for Florida. Wednesday to Tuesday. Away from home.