Time and distance weren’t even factors for the lost and tortured man. He wouldn’t have minded being mauled, ripped to shreds and eaten, only his gnarled bones would be left for some poor bastard to find.

Dark thoughts swirled about in the early morning light as he readied himself to try and reach Lake Ann.

The watercolor scenery tried to pluck out the anger the man had within. Mile after endless mile he trudged onward. He was torn between killing Sea Bee and finding a more peaceful resolution.

A monarch butterfly rests on the ground before him. He remembers back to Costa Rica when a wise cowboy tells him of the ancient belief that butterflies travel to and fro the underworld, the afterlife, and our current presence here on earth. They are the gateway creatures between worlds, and you should consider yourself fortunate if one happens to rest on or near your body.

It’s a sign of good luck.

This thought carries the man to the top of the mountain and the beauty of Lake Ann itself. The high tundra elevation is perfect for the man to read a book and contemplate his current situation.

He gets lost as the words of Mark Twain dissolve his anger and dark thoughts, and open up new and exciting thoughts and possibilities.

These new revelations bring hope to the man. He sees the valleys in a new light as he descends. The anger was left on top of the mountain, the darkness too.

Do others find it cathartic to admit one’s internal weaknesses, and use Nature to help heal themselves?

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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