I am fortunate in my life, to have spent time in places where I am wholly insignificant, dispensable, irrelevant. Where my passing will not be noted. These are places where the stones underfoot, wind burning the face, and the dominance of other animals is unavoidable, where the scent of my own species is easily blown away. My experience is not in the Antarctic or the Kalahari, but still, in my life I call it "Wilderness."
DISAPPEARING BEFORE OUR EYES
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 Peter on Kent Island by his father's weather station.
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