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first trip made us sleep within the yosemite lodge, deep into the park besides the merced river; morning early departure while the rangers are burning the undergrowth bushes; a quick stop and shoot and on we go; funny how one can romantic be about such a mundane activity; it makes me wonder at what do we really see; what sleeps inside of us, from generations of accumulation, kind of a dust clogging the eyes; what space is left for the outside stuff to come in and do it?