I have been reading the book Rogue River Journal by John Daniel. He spends over four winter months alone in a writing cabin along the Rogue River. He explores solitude and his relationship with his father, Franz Daniel, who was quite a force in the unions, and began working for social justice in this country in the 20's. The book is worth it for the history of the unions, and it is a beautiful meditation on nature and wilderness.
Here is a one paragraph.
"Usually I see only the grass, trees, fence, and drive that are always there. Nature excels in empty scenes. The ongoing action is in those vast sectors we can't see - miles of fungal filaments pursuing their commerce in any ounce or two of forest soil, the prodigious traffic of food and fluids in the xylem and phloem of trees, the manifold borings and diggings and chewings and excretings of various hidden insects, and of course the arcane dotings of bacteria and other tribes of the Very Small - if we could just see the tribes within our own bodies, we'd need never watch another World Series game for entertainment. But in our ordinary visual range, it's slow going. Usually."
Entrance today with your own entertainment system, dearly won.
