I had found myself walking down a pier about eveningtime; the sun was setting.
I focused on the horizon; how abstract an entity this is; it is not a physical “thing”, but depending on your position you can, thanks to the obliging sphericity of the planet, draw a line (well, a circle) on the globe, or a map an point at it and say “that’s the horizon I see”, which is really quite nice, when you think about it; at least our horizon at any time is a definite line of land, as opposed to the abstract line of land infinitely far off, as it would be if we lived on a plane. But, the notion of horizon is inseparable from this unreal prospect, at least in our thoughts.
How much depth is contained in this horizon, how fantastic it is. Then I thought, as one might, “what might the horizon look like in a higher dimensional world? – What might it be like to look out in to the distance to find yourself confronted with a horizon of not one dimension, a line, but two, a plane? I closed my eyes, and tried visualise this but my body instead froze, my heart was set racing – the overwhelming extent of this sight suddenly struck me, and I found myself unable to move for several minutes, unable to think about anything else, my mind fixated, unable to open my eyes lest I find myself faced with this terrible distant entity; a whole world might indicate the limits of my field of vision, a whole world that existed only as a conceptual nicety to me.