There’s a harshness everywhere, I know, city or country, but here it is more exposed, stripped bare by the weather and our isolation. That simplicity doesn’t suit a lot of people. They say it bores them, but I have watched. It’s not boredom, JP. It’s fear. The barrenness and rawness frightens them. Sends them away to cloak themselves in timetables, bills, holidays and houses, in sofas, kitchen counters and curtains, a life of buying and owning to mask the bareness of existence. Hide its harshness. Make it more palatable. Tolerable. But I wonder if it does?