Space Defined by Senses: Space, it seems, is a disk, maybe a sort of cabochon. It comes from my five senses; it’s what I can sense.
- Sight. Glorious sight extend my world hundreds of meters (steps) That’s about as far as I can “see” (notice) distinctions before they blur into the homogenous background, though I have seen miles from mountain tops and across valleys. Forward sensing, always looking forward, I know where I step.
- Hearing. Ah, yes that comforting sounds and not sounds. I can bid my eyes not to see; I cannot bid my ears not hear. Lovely, lovely sound that brings music to my soul. You magic makes the trees disappear and enveloped my in your cabochon. You fade from me now, though your melodies ring loud and clear. You know no direction, you warn from behind. Same range as sight, in forest or meadow, 100 steps or so.
- Smell. Subtle, diffuse, hints on the wind there is direction but not.
- Touch: The sense of the wind on the face; that most intimate touch, no direction, only HERE, the final warning.
- Taste: Perhaps more intimate than touch; it is only within; touch has let it pass. He too is warning.
Touch defines the boundary between “space” and “me”. Taste has nothing to do with space.
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Index 