American Man - Blog 1

I really enjoyed the first paragraph on the last page, where Orlean acknowledges that this wonderful backyard land of Colin's will one day be just that -- a backyard. Orlean effortlessly hits on the kind of transition that no one ever really thinks about, at least not until it is too late. She captures that kind of small melancholy that comes with growing up, and that really stuck with me. I really liked the line "one day, certainly, he will grow and it will shrink," (Orlean) because it packs two punches: the initial punch of lyrical, flowing ideas in one smooth sentence, and the message itself that one day, something that means everything to him will just simply not be enough anymore. It's so bittersweet; he may be growing, and will surely find something to replace the idea of the backyard, as life usually goes. But there is also a kind of sadness tied to the idea that growing up means we also grow out of the things that were once so dear to us. 

I also find it refreshing that she acknowledges that, likely, “this era of his life will be behind him forever,” when imagining his inevitable transition (Orlean). It’s refreshing to me because it is easy to think that you will love something forever. It’s easy to promise that you will value something while you are valuing it, as people often do. Some people may say they still love something even when they know they don’t, or at least they know they no longer love it the same. Orlean says it like it is; childhood loves will die, and we can’t change it. I liked that.