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.
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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.