Living Inside

At the moment, I'm writing about Mark traversing not-terribly-harsh terrain (all things considered, compared to say, the far southern ocean) with a sizable group of horses.  This is man versus nature stuff.  For him, it's intense.  Someone better acquainted with the area, better equipped, and better with horses might have considered this a leisurely stroll through the woods.  But Mark is a city kid, and the roughest thing he's ever done was sail on voyages where the real sailors take over when things get dangerous.

I wonder how many people will get what he's going through.  I do my best to keep my writing as sensory-bright as possible, but I doubt I'd succeed in describing the flavor of a strawberry to someone who's never had one.  How about being alone in a wild place with large domesticated animals who might run off and leave you to die?  Can a reader relate to the weird feeling you get when you realize how big even a small bit of forest really is, and how terrifying it is to realize you might be lost?  It's particularly humbling when, on your map, the delineated area can be easily covered by a postage stamp.

Lots of people in the real world have died in much smaller wilderness areas than the forest Mark is trying to navigate through.  In fact, people have been lost, hurt, and died in relatively tamed parks because they decided to step off the trail.  But will people believe it, never mind feel it?

I hope so.  It's hard to say, though.  So many of us live inside, if not houses, then on familiar ground.  There's a reason we do.  It's dangerous out there.

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