Lake Lewisia #277

“Where then will the wildness go,” asked the philosopher who helped to found the town, “when all the world has been made tame enough to take a yoke and endure the whip?” She had stood on the steps of a cabin in the woods, uncleared by civilization and unprotected in the eyes of both the well-meaning and the ill-intentioned, in her trousers and furs and black-bladed knives. “We will build our own shelter, large enough to safeguard a world, and we will fence it with moonlight and thread, and we will defend it with hen’s teeth and the baneful herbs.”

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LL#277