Wilderness. For me, one of the regions that still feels wild in Europe is: the Alps. There are streets throught he valleys, yes. Some towns, too, and some pass roads - but most of them close in winter. And even in summer, driving along those roads reminds you that the mountains are a different world.
I still remember that road, and the way the clouds moved in, brushing the mountain tops, and bringing some singles drops of rain. There was a parking area, and I stopped to take a picture. Standing there, I noticed a bird. It was huge. And high. Too far away to be all sure, but it probably was an eagle. It was at home there, in the vastness of those mountains.
Still happy about that moment. Nice that photo friday brought that memory back, with its new wilderness theme.
And a wilderness-story to go with it:
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H.owl
She sat in ant.icipation, watched a fire.fly. It was her first night vigil. By daylight, she had laughed the task away. I’m no cow.ard, she had stated.
She swallow.ed. Fact was, the night had a fourth, fur.ious dimension, there, next to the r.eal river. And just like her, the forest, so calm at noon, now was dealing with its own moving bear.ings.
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