After a long hike, you decide to stop and set up camp. This spot is now your home. This holy lake beside the holy mountains beneath this holy sky. Later, you will move somewhere else. Around the lake perhaps. Chasing butterflies. Along the river, casting a line and following the minnows that tickled your feet that morning.
Up the mountain with thirty pounds of gear on your back. On and on, waving at the ghosts and bears that you meet along the way. Wandering the length of the earth until you arrive home again some lonesome evening and settle your weary bones beside an open fire.