My partner and I are smug in our new house in Hillcrest. It’s been a good opportunity to explore the book Poetics of Space by Gaston Bachelard. He introduces the reader to the world of “topoanalysis,” by which he means a “psychological study of the sites of our intimate lives.” He explores those hazy memories we have our our childhood homes, and how they change as we grow up. He presents the house as a site for day-dreaming, a safe refuge from an often hostile world, and examines this image with other comparisons: nests, shells, boxes, wardrobes (think Narnia), attics, vestibules, and any hidden space you used as a child to create a safe, imaginary world. This reminded me of the magical “tree caves” that have been hollowed out in the trunks of old redwoods in Northern California.