CAMPING WILD
There is a term called “wild camping,” which I suppose means camping away from regular campgrounds. It’s funny how we define every permutation of every apparent activity. “Did you go camping?” “No, I went ‘wild’ camping.” There is also something, I learned, call “glamping,” where you camp but with all the luxuries of home. This is already a camping trip. Life. And it’s always and only wild. Untamed, Unknowable. And not even that. Since this group of three retreat guests and Fiona and me are not under restrictions of silence, but silence is “recommended” by our retreat owner, there was a discussion of whether to be silent or not. The retreat owner, who I’ve nicknamed the Lord of the Manor but may just end up calling the benefactor as he does pay everyone’s way, wants my opinion. Fiona says he has told everyone I am “enlightened.” I have to be careful to say very little so as not to expose myself! I tell them that silence will bring you no closer to life or love or whatever you imagin