I’ve always wanted to write a book where the setting is as important as the characters, where places are sort of characters. Maybe someday I will.
How are places like people? You can’t know a place by one visit. It changes expressions and moods each time you see it. It is a great pleasure to repeatedly walk or run a familiar route and see it change as the seasons change. You can’t say you know a place until a lot of time passes.
Places are unlike people because they don’t move. You can go back to them and you know they’ll be there. You can also write about them, anything good or anything bad, without any ethical problems.
White Rock Lake is a place I have spent many hours of my life. I know it better than I know most people. It has all kinds of different personalities to me. Perhaps in the next few days I will indulge myself with some sketches of these personalities.
Meanwhile, I just found a neat website on the birds of White Rock Lake. There is even a page addressing the great “heron vs. egret” confusion. Does anyone else feel like he scrupulously resists saying that the local egrets are generally white?
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