Vague Unreality

Looking up from below sea level. It's a perspective I've always found easy to love, walking in spaces that'll be over my head in a couple hours. The upper rooms of the old brookside home watch me, and the closer I climb, the more they hide behind a rising shore. Fog has something wondrous about it when you're inside, looking out. Blue skies take on a strange grey haze, everything wrapped in some gauzy atmosphere, like looking in a flaking mirror or through antique rippled window glass. There's a vague unreality present, shadows softened, something making life less obvious. The distance from ordinary is always exactly as far as I'm trying to travel. Could be reached in a couple minutes from the road, or a couple hours far from civilization. All that matters is the near-certain joy on arrival.

July 12, 2025
Cottage Cove, Nova Scotia

Year 18, Day 6453 of my daily journal.