Scary stories from a lovely place
(Guest blog by Stephen Reid)
Why do some things just feel good?
If we were to dissect things down to their basic ingredients would we find the answer?
Why is a 1964 mustang beautiful? Why do I take pleasure in being in a street where kids are playing? Why do I enjoy seeing houses with flowers in front of them? Why do pavements that are big enough to walk side by side with a friend feel more human?
Why does riding my bike at night give me a thrill, as the headlamp picks up bumps on the road and the wind chills me, why does it excite me?
I don’t have a solid answer but I know that as I get older I appreciate simple beauty more, I enjoy manual labour, I like the feel of soil in my hands, I love red wine, I feel good after cleaning the yard and bad loud music from hatchback cars seems dumb.
Maybe our parents were onto something after all.