Everything pays for growing tame.
The time on either side of now stands fast.
Nature is a catchment of sorrows.
We are, each of us, our own prisoner. We are locked up in our own story.
My writing time needs to surround itself with empty stretches, or at least unpeopled ones, for the writing takes place in an area of suspension as in a hanging nest that is almost entirely encapsulated.
Cherish your wilderness.