When I say, "environment matters," I mean that the geography of a place can affect every aspect of a dweller’s life. When I moved to Arizona, I had no idea how profoundly my life and my body, my daily practices, and my ways of thinking about everything from water to distances would be changed.
This is my point, I guess. What I can imagine, and how I perceive the world and myself in it, is profoundly determined by my physical landscape. Perhaps it’s not the same for everyone or everywhere, but Arizona, with its vast desert, hulking mountains, unusual climate, and strange beauty, has impressed itself upon me more strongly than anywhere else I’ve lived (including upstate New York, New York City, Ann Arbor, San Diego, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Milwaukee, and, briefly, London).
Living in Arizona, my children were outside every single day of their lives. In the fall, winter, and spring, we were at the park; in the summer, we were in the pool, rather than indoors for much of the winter, the way I was, growing up in Rochester NY, with dastardly winter temps. Because of Arizona, I’m scrupulously conscientious about hydrating; I always have a water bottle with me. I hike nearly every day. I’ve even lost my phobia about snakes (not that I don’t jump when I see one, but they’re just part of the landscape now). I also think nothing of a two-hour drive to Tucson to visit my son. And I believe I have a vaster sense of what is possible in my life generally, because every morning, from my hiking trail in the McDowells (photo, above), I can see for miles.
I don’t intend to tie everything back to my fascination with Victorian London, but the riparian environment is one of the things that compels my interest. Think about it – what would London be without the Thames? The river is the lifeblood of the city, as well as the repository for the city’s detritus. From the times of Londinium, the river determined virtually everything about the city.
When I wrote Down a Dark River, and made Inspector Corravan a former lighterman, I did it partly because I wanted to explore how the Thames and the land shaped each other, modes of travel, work, and experience, and people’s lives.
Many people don't realize the Thames is tidal –twice a day, the river changes direction from ebb to flow. This is why mud larking – aka scrounging in the dirt on the banks of the river, like these folks are near Blackfriars Bridge (Dec. 2022) -- is still a popular pursuit. The tide washes up treasures and trash alike. FYI - if you want to try mud larking, you can book a guided expedition, complete with waders and bucket, on Tripadvisor here: https://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowUserReviews-g186338-d13998271-r946820248-Cultureseekers-London_England.html.
So here's a question for you: Of all the places you've lived, is there one that impressed itself upon you more than others, and, if so, why?
