The Wild Places

The wild places
Remind me
My presence here
Is a gift of technology

Electricity and engines
Polymers and composites
Production lines and factories

I could not make
A single thing I’ve brought

Dropped here, some centuries back, I would die

Wet
Hungry
Shivering
Afraid

I love it here

The pristine beauty
The connection to nature

Though the intimate wind
Burrows beneath the layers
Of wool, fleece and Gore-Tex

I stay warm and dry, despite its efforts
Snap a few photographs
Then walk a few hundred graveled meters
Back to my reliable car