In which we confront reality in a small way

I see stuff like this.  Hippie, you just make me tired.

Let's take about fifty yards of cool-ish fabric out into the woods and hang it with coarse jute twine, light a candle on top of some books, and take an art shot.  It's that whole environment thing. 

Ooh.  Pretty. 

Let me buy you a clue.  This may look romantic.  This may look like, "Oh, I just want to spend an afternoon reading meaningful literature surrounded by beauty in a vaguely middle-eastern mode." 

The reality is this.  Too hot or too cold.  Wind.  Plants with thorns.  Plants that give you a rash.  Plants that smell like rancid garlic (foreground). 

And more than anything else, bugs.  Spiders of many kinds.  Midges.  Gnats.  Flies.  Mosquitoes.  Depending on your position on the globe, ticks, chiggers, noseeums, deer flies, hornets, wasps, centipedes, scorpions. 

Don't say I didn't warn you, hippie. 

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