For Almost a decade he's lived rough and tough alone and independent - never comes into town except when he's so hungry; he either chooses to starve or head out to St Joe's, The Shepherd's or the Mission for something to put into his stomach to live another few days his hermit life in the woods along the Rideau in downtown Ottawa.
Although he never spoke in words, he spoke in writings. He started to leave these pencil and pen thoughts in my mailbox and sometimes I'd return those thoughts with mine for him to pick up.
Then I never saw him. Days passed into other days and I never saw him so I wandered into the woods. Here I discovered his 'IGLOO' falling apart. Inside I found papers scattered with scrawls of pencils marks on some and on others writings of all sorts that revealed his feelings of life and his surroundings - this book contains some of those writings - I cal them THE HERMIT WRITINGS.
