Here I sit at the airport in North Carolina, fully-bearded and probably smelling like clothes that have not been washed by means other than becoming dampened by the rain or the slightly polluted river, and re-sun-dried while climbing an open rock face again and again and again for the past 50 days.
Living simply in the woods for so long with nothing on my mind and not a moment’s care for the chaotic happenings of the “real” world still driving forward around me has been an incredible experience yet again.
I recall a moment where I was paddling down a section of the French Broad River, crossing the North Carolina and Tennessee state boarders, and practically tip-toeing past a busy town as if I wasn’t there at all. To my left: car horns squealed, town clocks chimed noon, and sirens screamed in the distance. To my right: overgrown trees and thickets sagged into the river, ospreys soared over the trees scouting out an early lunch, and the wind whispered over the silence of the wilderness.
With a brisk paddle stroke and a brief splash of the river, I turned the canoe to the right – a choice I’ll make every time.
I can’t wait to share lots of stories and photographs (some of which I consider the most beautiful photographs I’ve ever taken) with everyone! Coming soon.
Right now: a plane ride back to Connecticut. Talk to you all soon!