Close to where I live spreads a gigantic, few-acre stretch of land. Much of it consists of nothing but bare dried earth. Occasionally you’ll find a handful of grassy undergrowth, in addition to a shrub and a tiny flower battlement dead center. Not much else emblazons the otherwise vast expanse of nothingness exposed to direct, scorching luminosity.
The emptiness makes for one of my not infrequent afternoon retreats. There I pensively promenade in alternating trajectories of the clock. There I exercise from time to time. There I evoke the celestial dignitaries. In all likelihood the field serves as a metaphor.
Plenty of wooded and far more picturesque areas are to be found in the vicinity, including a swampy lake just a reach away. But I prefer the empty plain. In all my time upon the empty plain, I’ve hardly noted but one being on a single occasion.
Which makes for wonderful news. I need not purchase a desolate landmass to reap the exclusiveness. Others seem to rather gravitate towards entropy, such as that there lake.
One day the municipality will likely transform the emptiness into extravagance. That’s in the better scenario. Otherwise, a developer will undertake brick and mortar upgrades.
I’m not certain who owns the land, nor does it really matter. While there, while I’m around, I’ll savour the opportunity. Otherwise, I’ll find another empty block to occupy in the four-dimensional continuum. It hasn’t proved too challenging.
We’re in a continuous state of transformation anyhow. Don’t count on any physical or even metaphysical construct, whether of benefit or peril, to remain immutable.
If inexperienced in the nature, I do, however, recommend discovering your own empty tract and trying it on for size.
Questions, comments? Connect.