It makes you a wanderer when you look at another continent through the eyes of its explorers. They guide you, but you’re there. You explore it, too, as they bring the right amount of shade and light and fractions and combustion to the place where they tell you to put your eye.
The markers that chart dinnertime, or high tides become icons you search for later on. Theirs is the imprint of wind- different, but still wind. And the wind is something you’ve already known. The wind is like a comic book character, sometimes hero, sometimes not, but all times, cartoonish, and never wholly embraceable.
