Home at Last
So, after sixty years, here I am, on a small island of soaring cliffs thrust out into the cold
North Atlantic Ocean, and finally feeling like I am home. This place feels right to me on a level I cannot explain.
For the past few weeks I have wrestled with building materials, heavy furnishings, put my hands into the soil, and contested with unyielding stone. The aches and pains associated with renewed exercise are fading, and the strength of my youth is returning. I have not felt so good in years.
Tomorrow I will once again take my dogs for a long walk, then I will begin the process of building another raised flower bed from the stone so readily at hand. Perhaps I may even take a few moments to write a line or two.