Projectionist

“ But one of the most vivid memories of my life, nearly twenty-five years old, is of emerging from a tent somewhere in the Black Hills of South Dakota, into a still, clear, cold morning, with the early sunlight slanting obliquely through the trees. It was one of the few times I understood reverence — not just reverence for nature, but as part of the more complicated mythologies humans layer on top of it. It wouldn’t have been the same had I driven to that spot from a nearby motel after a trucker’s breakfast. ”

P. Ragde on wallace-l, re: camping