by Patrick Walker, celebrating Sativa, 1996

55 interviews, 24 hours of recollections, 17k+ words. [link]

“I hiked up to the edge of the volcano last week. I walked in the middle of the night, and arrived at the lava flow around three in the morning. Walking towards it through the mountains, in the darkness, in the snow, in the silence—hearing the exploding lava getting louder and louder, and watching the lava spitting out in deep glowing red against the clouds—I was genuinely filled with fear, and it was a real fear, not rooted in politics, or faith, or some kind of logical analytical fear. It was a fear that predates modern man. There was actually nothing to think about.” [link]