On May 21, 2006, the people of Montenegro flocked to the polls to cast their ballots in a referendum for independence. It was a dramatic proposition for this small Balkan region, whose populace had spent much of the 20th century under the umbrella of Yugoslavia. But by the slimmest of margins—2,300 votes out of more than 400,000 cast—Montenegrins declared themselves an independent nation.
In 1911, as American historian Hiram Bingham combed southern Peru for the Inca city of Vilcabamba, an 11-year-old Quechua boy led him to an old citadel perched high above the Urubamba Valley. Its stone structures, standing for almost 500 years, were grown over with vegetation; some were even inhabited by the local people. But Bingham had inadvertently stumbled upon a treasure—one he would introduce to the outside world as The Lost City of the Incas.
As the 2012 presidential campaign finally came to an end this week, so concluded an election season that for two years had locked Americans into a fierce partisan divide. Thus, it’s little wonder that I find myself in desperate need of someplace tranquil. Someplace quiet. Someplace neutral, perhaps.
“Nature is always lovely, invincible, glad, whatever is done and suffered by her creatures. All scars she heals, whether in rocks or water or sky or hearts.” —John Muir
The Long Weekender 