A gray April morning filtered through dirty-ass Microsoft windows. It’s a great day to orient the paper “landscape” and reflect upon my relationship to my relationship to nature. So I sspprriinngg outside these pandemically-ossified turtleshell parentheticals and tell myself to tell myself: “Alas!” And then: “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!” Get blasted with some classically grandiose feels and then face-planted with a little humble pie. Let’s connect to the elements like Larry Eigner in a windbreaker pondering the Heideggerian fourfold. Or wander about Olson’s open field with Rebecca Solnit as your long-lost spirit guide. We pause, draw straws, and then are sent off to explore the postcard-able textures of our state quarter. Look up: a summons into infinite space. Look down: a summons into sacred burial grounds. Look beyond the horizon line: a summons to take the doggone geological perspective. Make a book of swan songs and hope they become fossils. Quietly Between by Megan Kaminski, Brad Vogler, Lori Anderson Moseman, and Sarah Green (A Viewing Space, 2022).
