When I was a boy, camping with my family or, later, visiting our houseboat at Trinity Lake in the far northern reaches of California, I would occasionally see a fire lookout station -- the mountaintop shacks where people would spend a summer by themselves, watching the surrounding landscape for signs of forest fires. I always thought it would be interesting to sit up there, perched, all alone, observing. I would read and look up to scan the horizon. I'd cook whatever I wanted, and on rare occasions be visited by a passing hiker.
Today's New York Times has a story on a real life tower lookout. Interestingly enough, his life sounds just about like my fantasy.
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