I had to hold my phone over my head and shoot blind above the top of the fence to take a picture of the backyard of the house where Carl Sandburg lived when he wrote ‘Chicago.’
Why did I want to do that?
To connect the dots between Sandburg and me.
And why would I want to connect those dots?
Because he did things like connect the dots between the moon and loving life and rustlings. You wouldn’t think those things go together.
He lived in that house when he wrote this:
It’s been mystically wonderful lately, that backyard, with a half moon thru the poplars to the south in a haze, and rustlings…on the ground and in the trees, a sort of grand ‘Hush-hush, child.’
And as the moon slanted in last night and the incessant rustlings went on softly, I thought that if we are restless and fail to love life big enough, it’s because we have been away too much from the moon and the elemental rustlings.
— Carl Sandburg, 1912
Relaxed pondering is good for getting perspective.
Who inspires you to see more than just the view from your backyard?