Since getting back from Malaysia I've been stuck in The Maine Woods with Henry David Thoreau. I've only managed a couple of pages a day, but considering how densely packed they are with details about the nature of the wilderness, as was, in that part of the world, that's quite enough to take in. I've never found Thoreau an easy read; but he feels like a necessary read somehow.
Very much the next best thing to really being in the wilderness. (Which I'm predictably developing longings for as I read on.)
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