When you first come across real solitude, you fear it; perhaps not right away, but definitely somewhere in the beginning. Before long it will grow on you. It grows quickly, especially when you need it to, and eventually it becomes part of you. You breathe it in every morning, consume it throughout the day, replenish it at night, whether it's by a warm fire, or tucked beneath the roof of a car. If you're lucky, you will experience this in an amazing place, like the mountains and prairies of Montana. And just wait, it will be calling you back once you leave.
I found some form of solitude here, on a muddy lakeshore, during the first cold day in September. It was like seeing an old friend again, one I'd been missing.
Well cheers, friend. I'll be seeing you again soon.
