There are certain writers who don’t just tell stories but evoke an entire atmosphere, a world you can feel in your bones. Rebecca Solnit is one of those rare voices whose work expands beyond the page, inviting readers into a space of reflection, longing, and beauty. Her writing captures the intangible—those spaces between where we are and where we dream to be, both physically and emotionally. One of her most profound metaphors is the “blue of distance,” a concept that moves beyond color and into the realm of human experience.
In her work, Solnit writes, “The world is blue at its edges and in its depths. This blue is the light that got lost. Light at the blue end of the spectrum does not travel the whole distance from the sun to us. It disperses among the molecules of the air, it scatters in water. Water is colorless; shallow water appears to be the color of whatever lies underneath it, but deep water is full of this scattered light, the purer the water the deeper the blue. The sky is blue for the same reason, but the blue at the horizon, the blue of land that seems to be dissolving into the sky, is a deeper, dreamier, melancholy blue.”
This description resonates on a visual level but also speaks to the emotional spaces we navigate. The blue that we see at the horizon or in deep water is light that has dispersed, light that hasn’t fully arrived. And that’s what makes it so compelling—it’s the beauty of what is almost here, almost within reach, but not quite. Solnit’s blue represents not just distance in miles but the emotional distance we often feel in life—the longing for something we see but cannot touch, the melancholy of knowing that some things, by their very nature, will remain out of reach.
“For many years, I have been moved by the blue at the far edge of what can be seen, that color of horizons, of remote mountain ranges, of anything far away. The color of that distance is the color of an emotion, the color of solitude and of desire, the color of there seen from here, the color of where you are not. And the color of where you can never go.”
Solnit’s metaphor for blue is more than just a meditation on nature; it’s a reflection on life’s inherent contradictions—the push and pull between where we are and where we want to be. The blue of distance captures the yearning for places, people, and experiences that we can never fully possess. It’s the color of both solitude and desire, a reminder that some things are beautiful precisely because they remain out of reach.
As someone deeply influenced by Solnit’s work, I find her reflections on blue a powerful metaphor in the realm of beauty and self-expression. Much like the distant blue of the horizon, our relationship with beauty often feels like an endless journey toward something elusive. We stand in front of mirrors, capturing glimpses of ourselves in photographs, never fully satisfied. Yet, just as the blue at the edges of the world is beautiful because it’s unattainable, perhaps our own beauty lies in those moments of self-reflection and longing. We are always striving, always evolving, and in that process, we find something profound.
Rebecca Solnit’s writing reminds us to appreciate the beauty in what we cannot hold, to find solace in the spaces between, and to embrace the blue of distance—not just as a color, but as a way of understanding the world around us and within us. In her words, we see not only the physical landscape but also the emotional terrain of our lives. And in that recognition, we find a deeper, dreamier kind of beauty.