I wake up, pull open the zipper and get out barefoot on the dewy grass. The rising sun warms up my face and the cool fresh air of the morning fills up my lungs. I smile. There’s no one around for miles. The closest people are down there, still sleeping in their comfortable homes under that mist covering the valley below like a cozy white blanket. I hear the wind blowing through the trees in the valley and birds flying around chirping and trilling. I don’t need music. I am connected.
I fight an interior urge to take a look at my watch but I know that time doesn’t matter here so I turn my face back to the sun and start ambling towards the lake. I’m home. I lower myself near the edge of the lake and splash my face with cold water. It’s a lot better than a coffee. I take out my shirt and wash a little bit more. The water is cold, but the morning summer sun and the nice warm wind are replacing the best towel in the world. I am connected.
After walking back to my tent, I take breakfast on a rock. I don’t need a table. Actually I like it more than any other table. I eat slowly, watching a herd of chamois whistling somewhere above me on a steep slope. They don’t hurry because there’s nowhere to hurry. Patches of mist rise from the valley so close above my head that I can almost touch them. I am connected.
I start packing everything up, wash my dishes with water from the river, wipe my knife and my spoon with fresh grass, then I disassemble my tent and let it dry while I ramble barefoot on the soft grass. A little bit later I pack everything, then take a look around to make sure I leave no trash behind and put the rucksack on my back. I love the feeling of the backpack being part of me. I leave, following the trail along the river that will take me down to the valley, listening to the sound of the water running over the round stones. I am connected.
The trail goes down meandering into the woods, with tall evergreen trees adjoining it on both sides. I stop every once in a while to touch some of them and smell their resin. I adore it. The river nearby with the lush green vegetation around it and the sun rays falling through the trees make me think of fairy tales. I am connected.
The trees change, the vegetation is different, the trail is more like a road now, but I’m still alone with the river and the sun rays. Birds keep singing. The sun is high now and I feel its heat. Several hours have passed, I don’t know how many, it still doesn’t matter. I am connected.
I start hearing the noise of ‘civilization’ and then remember I should have a phone with me. I look for it, it was turned off, lost somewhere in my backpack. I forgot about it. I’m still connected.
The noise is so close now, I’m almost out of the woods, I see some distant buildings and the first car after several days. It passes by, speeding, leaving me in a cloud of dust. I curse. I left my home, heading back into ‘the wild’. I turn on my phone and hit the road, trying to catch a ride to the nearest train station. Several hours later I’m back in town. There’s so much noise and people are rushing everywhere. I am disconnected.
Nowadays, many people say we should disconnect.
I say we should connect more.