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Like a midsummer night's dream, it speaks of friendship. It speaks of emotions in front of the fire. It speaks of the desire to get back in the game and the willingness to let oneself go to life's peculiarities. It speaks of a return to one's roots, the desire to get one's hands a little dirty to rebuild that comforting appearance from which you've just escaped.


A moment to come out into the open, to embrace true values, those in which you firmly believe. A moment to pause, to reflect, to be silent. A good moment to start a journey, perhaps still to be invented, but already ready to be trodden with perseverance, determination, and eagerness.


Because fundamentally, isn't being human about this? Desiring something more than mere existence. We need sharing, dreams, projects, just as much as we need a good roof to shelter us and food to eat. And where do you find hope? You find it on the road when you abandon yourself to everything, when four wheels become your "mobile home," and then that forward momentum becomes a side effect because you know in your heart that you won't be able to stop. A sense of possibility is created, as vast as the country you are visiting. It's just ahead, in the next place, the next job opportunity, the next dinner you'll prepare for someone, in the next encounter with a stranger who has the ability to read you better than anyone else. You find in those strangers that nomadic being that characterizes you so much.


It takes little: a few pieces of wood to sit on, a fire that warms, a shared bivouac where in the heart of the night, something unique and unrepeatable is created that will never come back again.

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