The world was wild once. And young. Its anger could kill, and we feared it. And for its sins we wiped that wild world away from this land.

The winter is barren to the civilised world. The blanketing snows hide the work of men and machines, and laughs at our efforts to face it. The winter brings with it the memory of the Old Wild. Cold. Unforgiving. Honest. Free. Beautiful…

But those who have always lived in this Garden of Man have no place in the Old Wild. They forget that they were wild once. That the world was wild once. They push from their minds the knowledge that; when they are gone: it will be wild again.

As it must be.

As the last traces of winter, finally slip away, they take with them the wildness of the place. The land becomes tame again and the returns to the dominion of the Human World. And in my heart, I know the world is poorer for it.