I’ve been awake for 45 minutes. During that time, I’ve simply wanted to be farther away.
I’m decently far as it is. But I’d like to be farther. I feel the pressure of people. Of civilization. And I can understand why it’s critical for sanity to be in nature. To get away from harsh lights. To lean back and take in the breadth of the night sky.
I grew up in suburbs. I grew up being unwilling to stay dirty for more than a few minutes. I grew up with the parental opinion of camping being “ew I hate it.”
We still did it. Rarely. And for “high adventure” hikes. Forty to fifty milers over a week or so.
But it didn’t become engrained in me as “something I do.”
For the last hour I’ve watched the night sky. When I woke, the sky was a deep dark with bright stars poking through.
Now only the brightest stars are left and there is the faintest promise of sun on the horizon.
The woods are starting to come alive also. Animals and bugs are starting to stir.
Day is coming. And with it, lessons to be learned.