I have often observed with wonder the way that relatives and friends who many would consider to be "country-bumpkins" circulate seamlessly among the ranks of high-society guests, such as ambassadors and executives. They do so effortlessly neither changing their relatively unsophisticated manner nor their unrefined speech. What holds their audience are the embellished accounts of hunting, fishing and farming. Their rapt audience is usually either an urban/modern who distantly admires those upon whom their society has been built or a person born and raised in the woods, but since detached. The refrain if uttered would be "oh the good old days!" I like many city-folk straddle this divide: I love working outside in the wild, but am compelled by conditioning and a number of factors to remain near the jobs and institutions. Every now and then I experience a bond with fellow nature-lovers, e.g. while splitting fire-wood this weekend a neighbour remarked, speaking to the legitimacy of my endevour, "Now there is a man at work". I frequently feel like giving it all up and returning to the hills, but am always discouraged by the nagging feeling that I may not really belong there either for any period of time. So for now I'll awkwardly observe the country-folk in action at various parties and visit them as often as I can.