Two images come to mind when I think about wilderness.
Dessert. Wide open vistas of nothingness. Dull, wind-whipped colors. Lifeless and void. No edges anywhere just the vast expanse of sand in all directions.
The other is a forested mountainside where no light has reached the earth for decades and no human foot has crushed a pine needle. Endless acres of trees so dense that once deposited in their midst there is no edge that is visible.
Both feel claustrophobic to me. I tend to want to edges, some defining mark that lets me know I’ve arrived somewhere. Wilderness doesn’t have edges.
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