What am I searching for? What magical sight or sound will give me the answers I so reverently seek to soothe my restless soul? I have not the complete answers to a destiny filled with hope and joy, but I fall back to the things that have brought joy in the past. I love camping in the woods.
The remote aspects of the endless woods of Maine, the captivating essence of a still pond in the morning, these things hold sway over my inner self lusting for calm. On my first night in the north woods of Maine I start to let go the savage thrust of anguish and torment of living in a world pushed to the limit, a never ending speed through daily life in the rush to gain all before it’s too late. Societies hold on me stopped at the convergence of town and country, the hold of the woods takes control.
Falling back down to earth, I feel the burden lifting slowly before the setting sun. The simple things gain power in the coolness of evening, a can of Dinty Moore beef stew never tasted better. I sleep the sleep of the pioneers, comfortable in the knowledge I am in control of my destiny at this moment, no one holds sway over my future. Lucid are my dreams with the sound of Loons calling out for loved ones in the dark.
The dusty travel, the dangerous roads, all seem worth the effort with the settling sun on the shores of Wadleigh Pond. At peace am I as I look out from my tent as the sun prepares to go to bed. Stay tuned, much more to come.
Long live the pioneers.