For a reason I can’t really explain I feel adventure calling my name. Or maybe it’s just the wilderness. Of course, slap those together and you have a wilderness adventure, but that just sounds too cheesy. I’m not in the mood for a wilderness adventure, I’m in search for adventure in life. Maybe it requires me to be out in the wilderness, alone, not to be confused with lonely, but solitude. Just me alone with my thoughts and a paper and pen to write them down. It’s something quite incredible to be outdoors and experience nature first hand, wherever that may be, snow, mountains, forest, lakes, etc. I wasn’t born or raised in a place to be considered the wilderness; unlike many of my friends who tell stories of their upbringing in the backwoods. I, simply never had that opportunity. At times though, I wish I was born in those places. I’d be nice, maybe. But like I said, I may not be looking for wilderness adventures but the adventure: yes. Perhaps it’s the idea of adventure that enthralls me. The idea of being on an adventure and not the ordinarily mundane that at times life’s temporary routine can suggest and impose on us. Perhaps, I am on adventure, it just so happens that I’m not in the wilderness, sitting on a fallen tree, writing in a leather bound unruled-paged notebook, with a forest around me. Where I am, there are no sounds of rivers or waterfalls, no wild animals, no smells of pine or oak. It just so happens that my adventure takes place in a different setting with slightly different surroundings. And perhaps, I’ve swapped that leather bound unruled-paged notebook for a laptop. Maybe it’s time to take a more analog approach to writing. I think I might take a trip into the wilderness and think about it.