First Wilderness

You look up, you see only stars. You shine the torch to the right and can see the elegant arch of an elephants back among the trees, to the left two eyes blink slowly at you across the brush before turning and heading to the river. Turning back to the camp you feel yourself drawn to the warmth of the fire, its light summoning you. Instead you must finish your patrol, who knows what other creatures have come to the river tonight.

Placing some more wood on the fire you sit briefly and the wilderness begins to become a part of you.

You hear the wild dogs – yet do not fear.
You see the stars – but do not feel small.
You are alone and yet do not feel lonely.
You are part of something bigger, something that makes more sense than you thought possible, acceptance is the key, in the wilderness, everything just *is*, it needs no explanation.

How many others – you begin to wonder – have sat here like me?
How many millions of years ago did the first man sit here and look at the stars?
How many animals have passed by here, how many battles fought and lost, how many lives have ended, how many have begun?

So easy it is to forget yourself, to forget time, to forget the past. You imagine the future and ignore the present. Nothing seems impossible, because nothing seems to matter enough, time has stopped, it is just you and the fire and spirits of those who trod this land before you.

Your eyes wander to the fire and amid the glowing embers you see them, each with a story to tell if your heart is open to hear them.

The spirits, the souls, the faces in the fire.