the woods

Few can find joy in the task of setting up camp in the middle of the cold night, plugging screws into the damp soil by the weak shine of an electric torch. It is man. with his wits and ingenuity, against nature. Or perhaps it is just nature, with man only a small part of it.

The man in the boardroom's authority originate from the value other men ascribe to him. The more he is valued, the more power he gains. Power that proves illusory outside the realm of electronics and telecommunications. When you find yourself in the woods alone, there are no other men.

In this alien territory, so different and disorienting for many of us, the expanse of the night's sky seem to grow. The stars that fill it, permanent, looking down on us, grinning, reminding us of our anonymity and transience.

We will never be stars. No amount of wealth will be enough to hang our names forever on the sky. The greatest authority cannot make the woods pleasant.