Reading a novel, "Evidence of Things Unseen." Weaves such a spell I didn’t blog last night. Caught up in the story of Fos and Opal, over-arching images of luminescence, the lyrical prose, the feel of the rich, humid air of Tennessee, life in the 1920s. Fos and Opal are of the era of my grandparents; many little details remind me of where I grew up and the feel of the rolling Missouri countryside dotted with farms and small towns.
I’ve been living in the West for over 30 years, yet there’s some part of that past that continues to reside inside me. Like the deep color of a shell you find on a familiar shore.
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Emptiness is nature’s strong attractor, she learned as Fos showed her how vacuums attract. She watched the fields of energy subtend between voltaic cells, she watched the way the stars fell through vast distances in patterns of attraction. She learned that attractive force resides in every form of matter, latent, waiting for the single spark to fire it with life.
~ from "Evidence of Things Unseen," by Marianne Wiggins