Friday, June 4, 2010

An Edgy Post

I've been fascinated by the edges of things for years. (One of my many quirks. Corners, too.)

Edgelands tend to be dangerous places:
The edge of night.
The edge of reason.
A cliff's edge.
Virgins on the verge.
(A verge is an edge, right?)
The edge of panic.
The edge of insanity.

Do you know that deer prefer to live at the edge of the forest, where trees share space with the lesser plants? Maybe that's why more deer live in Iowa, with it's cornfields and pastures and patches of woods, than in our huge Northwestern forests. More edgelands. Also more roads - and thus (unfortunately), more roadkill. I told you the edgelands are dangerous. Someone should convince the deer.

And what about the edges of a rainbow, where red light slips into infrared and violet slides into ultraviolet? Where does one color end and the next begin? Do photons vacillate between the Seen and the Unseen, like our minds at the edge of sleep?

My limits stretch and blur when I'm on the edge of consciousness. In that twilight land between the world of dreams and the everyday world, creativity blossoms; present, past, and future co-exist; anything can happen - and usually does.

My stories begin in the Edgelands.

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