Could it be I live under a rock? In a place where the hard sheets of rain and the rattling of wind keep me pinned down and locked in just one place, one position?
On a night like tonight, when sheets of rain are hammering the roof as I write and when the sway of trees makes me cringe with thought of one falling, I’m content with being under that rock if it offers protection from the elements and a chance to see another day. (And don’t you meet the nicest elves under a rock?)
But sometimes this back lot-worthy setting does seem kind of, well, out of touch with the world. Just look at the cabin in the shot above. That’s my neighbor’s place. Funky, yes? (ok…they don’t exactly live in the cabin, but it’s really there).
The world, come to think of it though, may not be a place to be missed. With hostage taking in chocolate shops, trillion-dollar budgets, and torture reports that polarize, this moss-covered rock doesn’t look so bad.
Maybe I do live under a rock. And a tree.