I stand naked in front of a red fire, in the thick of the midnight-blue forest. The first large, clumsy drops of what will eventually blossom into a violent downpour fall around me. They strike the leaves nearby, and my skin with gentle pats, and the glowing logs with zesty sizzles. I slowly become conscious of less and less that surrounds me. The raindrops have reduced to forest noise, like the wind in the treetops above. The tent that lies somewhere in the dark behind me, beyond the fire’s glowing reach, offers a sense of cover – perceived safety from the rain and the unseen fauna. It serves as a…