I am somewhat of a fan of minimalist home design and decor. I find the clean lines attractive; something in me responds to an almost empty room with a bench and a couple of stones, or a white on white kitchen.
(I've collected a few on Pinterest, as a sample.)
But I could never live with the style. I'd be tiptoeing about, afraid to put a coffee cup down in the wrong place, or to leave my current stack of books (mismatched sizes and colours, some propped open) and the scraps of paper that I use as placemarks on a table designed to hold one flower in a vase, or to forget to shut that cupboard door. I'd feel as if I were an unwelcome visitor in my own space. There'd be no home for the latest grandkid's artwork, or a spider in a jar, no forgiveness of small anomalies. I'm an incurable pack-rat.
Still, an empty scene charms me. And what shape of nothing beats a foggy sea and sky?
Here's what met us at Boundary Bay on Tuesday:
|Sandpipers, gulls, and a hint of the opposite shore.|
|And a drowned branch.|
We did get close to some of the peeps. Photos tomorrow.
A Skywatch post.