Reading at camp, Day 2.


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  1. I hope it is alright to comment on this photo. This is me writing after a long day of walking. I participated in the walk in 2013. It is hard to remember everything that happened, because so much of the walk felt like passing through a diverse sampling of psychic space, from residential zones to train tracks by the river, to highways, all of which feel so different. Passing through them was like going from hot to cold to hot to cold in patterns. All of the sudden the forest stops, and the highway appears again. In the photo we had finally made it to our campsite for the evening. We made good time and had an hour or two of daylight left. Walking all day is both magical and exhausting. Magical because to walk is to move the body and the mind at the human rhythm of one foot after another. Exhausting for obvious reasons: 8 hours of anything is a full day’s work. Sitting on the side of a hill, waist deep in dry leaves, so grateful to rest, with a handful of sweet and salty trail mix, I finally had time to listen to the wind. The park we were staying at was small enough to feel like you couldn’t get lost in it, but big enough to feel consumed by it. It was really nice. I think we played some games- throwing sticks at a tree in the distance to see who could hit. I think we read stories about the trickster god coyote. And then, when it was dark, we went to sleep.


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