The night calls to him. There the quiet and the loudness of the quiet surround him. Moist evening air caresses his cheeks and dampens his back as it mixes with the perspiration that gathers there, as he climbs each hill following the glorious call of his hound.
The days seem endless as he waits for this darkness. The anticipation is like ants under the skin. He is restless and discontented. But as the sun sinks from the summer sky into the darkness of the woods, he feels that calmness return.
He was born to be in nature, to run with the dogs, to roam the dark forest. No fear holds him near the confines of mown grass and locked doors. Freedom and clarity, centeredness, he finds under the trees with his path lit by the glow of the moon, the sparkling stars and the lamp mounted on his head.
It is hard for others to understand what calls him to places others avoid and fear. But it came to him years ago in a child’s dream – a fear he overcame. It is the force that drives him, the dream he became the master of.