Heed the Call of the Wild
The call of the wild; I have heeded to thee for the fifth year running. You cease not to amaze and enchant me. Immerse me in your wonder. A barn of folk hither, a valley of raves thither. No, I cannot stay longer in your icy cold waters, as much as my heart longs for (and my body, since it’s even colder when I step out onto dry land). I cannot stay because a million scents overpower my senses, tricking my stomach into false hunger.
Crumpet? Anna Mae’s? Veg sushi even? (I’m not even veg and yet I love it.) Almond macaroons anyone?
Cocoface would of course have been the staple. Three, four, five, eight coconuts-a-day would not be unusual.
But, alas, our travels to the wild have outlasted theirs it seems.
Yet we continue. Wading through the books, searching for unknown thrills and familiar giants to whom we may dedicate our attention…for an hour or two. After that it’s off to the forest. A wild run maybe, or the eternal quest for an equestrian adventure, maybe even an electric bike with its riveting descent down that big, muddy hill.
Though we all truly know that the Rogues have it hands down. Whether they be roamers, lunar worshippers or downright mindfuckers — confused as can be and immersing us in their tales of confusion with glee.
To be transported to another world, within a world to which one has transported oneself away from one’s own world, is the epitome of this whole affair.
Escapism at its height. Traversing the hidden crevices of the mind, imagining those figments (of imagination, no doubt) while immersed in the throes of the mother. Oh, to the wild we go. In our tents and our tepees. In our flip-flops and our wellies.
As the Wilderness calls us back yet again, we hesitate not once — not even in the figments of our minds!
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