From my trip with Henning through the Hungarian countryside. I kept marveling at how the trees were so evenly spaced and maintained, without being in rows. Ladies darting in and out of the woods in front of us, following rabbit runs to family mushroom-gathering places.

Henning’s backpack was not orange, but it reminded me of George’s first Alaska backpack (a Camel cigarette prize that fell apart in our first week), and the palette wanted orange for balance, so there it is.