The Adirondacks are about longing for me.

Longing to be there when I’m not, feeling my heart and mind pulled like a magnet towards true north.

They are about longing for simplicity and clear purpose, the rustic tools of a campsite or pack.

They are about longing for someone who isn’t there, in various forms. The way things changed when you were young, the way you used to do all of these things together.

Later, the longing turns to who you wish could be with you in front of a fire on a starry night.

Longing for who you are meant to be, the person who can complete that hike and who can thrive in wilderness and solitude.

Longing for the sense of freedom felt while standing on a rock at the edge of a lake, feeling the wind beating against you and making everything clear.