Zen Habits – Simple Productivity

Life After Death

by Matt Herron

Houses are built to shelter the course of a human life or family of lives. These feral houses, photographed in Detroit, no longer serve the same purpose. They still stand, but they have been reclaimed by nature.

The absence of human presence in the photos sharpens the contrast. They stand alone, emptied of occupants and of their original meaning. They stand only for the observer, as a reminder of what was lost.

Whether they were abandoned or neglected so long that abandonment was the only option left, the end result is the same: Mother Nature now rules these buildings.

The growth that inhabits a space once used by people proves that the houses are more than just monuments to decay. They have taken on a new meaning as the birth of life in the midst of a city in decay.

The beauty lies in the opposition between destruction and creation. People would do well to remember that destruction implies the chance to build anew.

Write To Done Good writing on writing.

True/Slant an ‘original content news network’. It’s fresh for me, and appears worth watching.

Not So Fast

excerpt from a manifesto for slow communication by John Freeman:

“Our society does not often tell us this. Progress, since the dawn of the Industrial Age, is supposed to be a linear upward progression; graphs with upward slopes are a good sign. Process­ing speeds are always getting faster; broadband now makes dial-­up seem like traveling by horse and buggy. Growth is eternal. But only two things grow indefinitely or have indefinite growth firmly ensconced at the heart of their being: cancer and the cor­poration. For everything else, especially in nature, the consum­ing fires eventually come and force a starting over.”

SF Remakes Crookedest Street as Candy Land Board

A Meeting On The Bruce Trail

by Matt Herron

I met a Chinese couple while I was hiking on Bruce Trail. They were old enough to be grandparents, gray hair accenting their temples, but they had young faces and calm eyes, full of life. I stood with my back to them, gazing into a valley spread with trees and a golden-orange carpet of leaves, when the man walked over to speak to me. His wife remained sitting patiently a few yards off the path.

“Where is Tiffany Falls?” he asked. I did not know. He told me proudly that they had hiked four kilometers, out of the valley, to sit on that log and eat their lunch. He produced a map from his pocket and explained to me that the falls were back the way I had come.

I told myself that they ought to be able to enjoy their hike in peace, and left. I chased the rumble of the falls off the trail, across private property. I ended up on the wrong side, too far up river. I could hear, but not see, the water rushing to meet the rocks.

Forced to retrace my steps, I headed back down the trail, then along the road to a parking lot with signs pointing the way to Tiffany Falls. As I started down the new trail, I saw the Chinese couple again, this time walking towards me. We stopped and greeted each other. They told me that the falls were beautiful. I told them I had wandered into the wilderness for a while, and then, laughing, we parted.

They remind me of my own grandparents. Only they were an American couple in China, and Nana would be the one chatting to a young Chinese man lost in the woods, Papa smiling patiently behind her.

GM claims electric car will achieve 230mpg Keyword, claim.