Thoreau could very well be my hero – two years of solitude and reflection on life, liberty, pursuit of happiness, faith, sense of self, living in the moment, within one’s means, one with the land. I doubt I could do it for two years, but I wonder how I would be changed if I could manage two weeks. I say “would” because I can’t see how any extended time with no one but yourself, God, and the trees could produce anything but a dramatic change in one’s thinking. Would I fall to slumber earlier in the evenings? Would I rise much earlier? The primitive and useful tasks of gathering wood, creating fire, foraging for sustenance and maintaining safe haven would surely be vitamin for body and soul and make for deep, restorative rest. What words would my mind bring to the pages of my notebook as I fish for dinner or feed the fire? Would I be satisfied, satiated, content with myself and my space, with natural air conditioning from a summer breeze, paper and pen, and the chatter of chipmunks, squirrels, wild turkeys and deer as the only world wide web in my vicinity?