Where could these stairs lead? Are they the beginning of some path into the wilderness, the remains of some old colonial farmhouse? Steps to a spooky haunted house?
Of course, these are just the stone steps to my neighborhood park. But I have taken to looking at the small places I discover on my daily walks in a new light. There is always a place for magic, imagination, and inspiration in even the most mundane of spots. What started out as a necessity because of the pandemic (staying close to my house) has turned into an opportunity for an adventure into the unknown every time I go for a walk. No need for plane tickets, Uber rides to the airport, tiny airplane seats, or bad airplane food. Adventure is right outside your door.
Yesterday was an ideal day for this type of exploration. It was cold and overcast. The grayish blue skies lent an air of mystery to the still-bare trees. One particularly large tree in my neighborhood has three thick branches (though one has sadly been sawed off to prevent falling damage) that form a seat in the middle of its trunk. The seat is narrow, well-worn, and covered in moss. Local children place rocks in the seat and take turns scampering about it. Are they placing offerings to the local god of the park? Maybe they are vying for the kingship of dog mountain (a bronze dog statue sits at the top of the park), or maybe they are taking turns sitting in the fairy seat waiting for a visit from the local park sprite that brings good luck to all who please it.
Of course, there may be more intrinsically interesting locations in your town. You can always use those sites as jumping off points rather than just what it looks like in the current day. The town I live in has your standard east coast historical buildings, like the Jason Russell house. This is the site of the allegedly bloodiest battle of the first day of the American Revolution. The house is a happy light yellow, but as I walked past it, I could definitely sense the blood spilled all those many years ago (when Elizabeth, Jason’s wife, entered her kitchen, she found him along with 11 other Americans side by side laying in their own blood). I used that ominous feeling to paint a darker side of the house with watercolors. I imagined the new owner always feeling like he is being watched, but thankful for the owl and cat guardians who watch over the site tied to it by ghosts of the past.
I’ve only just scratched the surface of the kinds of stories and paintings my neighborhood explorations can inspire. I’ve jotted down an idea based off of some odd statuary I’ve seen in an overgrown yard, and I’m excited to see where that story goes.
So, go out and explore your neighborhood. Find the historical sites, but also find those seemingly mundane places that might spark your imagination. Find those weathered stone gargoyles in your neighbors’ yards, or the tree growing and curling around an old set of steps, or that small pond filled with turtles bathing on rocks. Fill your imagination with the simple beauty of the life and world right outside your front door.
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