Heidicus Haverkampus in her local habitat
I’m often surprised by how pretty it can be around here. Suburbs? Pretty? Those two words usually don’t go together. When the search committee at the church asked what it would be like for a city girl like me to move to the suburbs – especially way out here in the hinterlands – I could think of a lot of things I’d miss about urban life, but I knew I would love the landscape out here in Will County.
There’s something about the clear lines of grass, water, sky, and, yes, even the cookie-cutter homes, that is pleasing to the eye. The simple lines of prairie landscape and sky are what I grew up believing the world was supposed to look like, as a native Midwesterner. I’m a sucker for long grass, green or brown, waving in the wind. Little blue ponds? Fluffy clouds? Wide open fields? They’re part of my spiritual geography, as Kathleen Norris might say.
And the cookie-cutter homes, in neat lines and gentle curves, are… well, symmetrical. There’s a sort of flow to them, actually. (Maybe you think I’m crazy.)
It’s a winter photo, and the colors are a bit washed-out. I’m wearing some colorful garb to contrast! (It’s been such a crazy warm winter – out in just a sweater and hat in February? Whah?) I’d like to post more photos of the snippets of prairie we have, and how the “boring” symmetry of the ‘burbs can also be sort of beautiful.
Good thoughts. I confess that I tend not to gravitate toward the particular aesthetics of the suburbs. (Or some of the suburbs; they vary.) But I see what you’re saying about the lines and the curves. And I saw the beauty easily when I was out there. And most of all, I see the goodness in finding beauty wherever you happen to find yourself. It’s always, always there.