Two things struck me immediately in Tennessee: the vital smell of decaying vegetation and the sounds of life. Both of these things make me want to live in a tent and walk barefoot for the rest of my days, breathing in the rich earthiness and reveling in the aural beauty—the birds and the bugs and the occasional amphibian.

At times this triggers a primeval memory, a glimmer of something much older and more primary than my current iSlave lifestyle.


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