The Solitary Walker

In the streets and in society I am almost invariably cheap and dissipated, my life is unspeakably mean... But alone in the distant woods or fields, in unpretending sprout-lands or pastures tracked by rabbits, even in a bleak and, to most, cheerless day like this, when a villager would be thinking of his inn, I come to myself, I once more feel myself grandly related, and that cold and solitude are friends of mine. I come home to my solitary woodland walk as the homesick go home'. - Thoreau

(lissy elle, art.com, marie hochhaus)