When we moved to our house on the Canadian border in the far north of New York State, we were essentially living in the middle of a forest. It was quite possible to walk across the road from our house into the woods and not come to another road, habitation, or any other sign of civilization for many miles.
It took me awhile after we moved there to figure out why I always went to the right when I went for a run: If I went to the left, I was hemmed in by forest on both sides of the road for miles. I felt like anything could come out of those woods--human or animal--and I really did not like that feeling. I couldn't see what might be there.
So I always ran the other way, which meant I was going past our neighbor's dairy farm. Much more open. I could see.
I think it was A. who said I was reacting as a prey animal might. They always want to be somewhere where they can see danger approaching. It was funny to think of it like that, but I think he was right.
That's why I feel so comfortable here, I suppose. I can see for literally miles. Everything is open. There are very few trees. The land is mostly flat; the air is clear; the sun is almost always shining. Maximum visibility.
11 comments:
Give me trees! And conveniently, we planted many trees in our yard for shade and beauty. And cover from predators. 😉
I drive through the farm fields and sometimes feel like I'll be lost forever with no landmarks. Though I admit the horizon at sunsets are gorgeous.
The only time I prefer flat, open fields is deer season. Then , visibility is supreme.
Interesting. I enjoy the wide open spaces--but I'm equally happy surrounded by trees. When you all lived up north, I walked to the left, usually. Chalk one up to general insensitivity, I guess. Recently I actually opted without thinking to drive down the wooded Gully Road during a bad windstorm, only realizing that doing so was really stupid when I had to drive around a large fallen branch. Color me clueless.
I live in the middle of the woods. You can see anything from here too. You just have to be looking for movement as well as the obvious figure. And listen. You run with ear buds in. Listening to your surrounding noises is also big in the woods. You can hear "anything " moving in the woods if you are naked of sound.Beth
Don't fence me in! Wide-open spaces all the way. No trees (well, a windbreak is necessary, but no forests), no hills, and for sure no mountains. They just get in the way of the horizon. I've always felt that way and just assumed it had to do with where I grew up -- the high plains of eastern New Mexico and southwestern Kansas. But maybe it is a predator/prey thing; the enemy I can see is preferable to the one I can't. People from hilly/mountainous/forested areas come to the flatlands to visit and are weirdly anxious because they can see so far, which doesn't make any sense at all to me. Why wouldn't you want to see the horizon? I go away from here and get a bit anxious because I *can't* see. I love the visibility and potential of the horizon.
--Karen.'s sister
When we lived at the top of Alaska, in a small village, it was hundreds of miles above the tree line and the land ended at the Arctic Ocean---so you were literally where the earth ended. You could see for miles in every direction, which was helpful for spotting polar bears, which do not hibernate. No trees sometimes messed with your depth perception. On days of snow, it was as if you were staring into a movie screen, white all around you. Alos, no trees meant no wind break and it is always windy there, turning the wind chill to more than 100 below zero sometimes in mid winter. But I prefer that to heavily treed areas, where you can't see what is hiding out there.
I miss the landscape of New Mexico, but I admit that now, in Minnesota, I would miss the trees. I foolishly think that I am safe from predators because I am tall! Mary in MN
Horizon for me. All the horizon.
I love trees and mountains. Over there, somewhere.
A few years back, our cousin was in Nebraska to visit from a San Francisco suburb, and she was super nervous because there were no people around. And we were even in eastern Nebraska where there are hills and trees and multiple houses per mile and people everywhere, even not in town.
I suppose I don't have to explain how I feel about that.
Anyway, horizon.
Horizon. I like to stretch my eyes.
I don't think I'm influenced by trees/no trees. I'm influenced by hills/no hills. I crave hills. Visiting the flat places is fine, but I need the hills to feel at home and safe.
Did you grow up in open areas?
Karen.: No, you don't have to explain. I get it.
Jody: I grew up lots of places--Georgia, Hawaii, Alaska, Arizona--so I don't think that can explain my affinity for this area. It's just innate, I guess.
I've grown up in an area where you can see mountains on all sides. Not super close, but in the distance. When I travel to places that only have flat horizons, it throws me off a little bit.
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