Oil on Wood
As I was heading for a ferry Wednesday afternoon, a stiff breeze was blowing through the Weibel's house signaling their imminent arrival. The simple beauty stopped me in my tracks, taking me right out of my self and back to the island and its healing powers.
Since then the weather has turned wet and gray. I was reluctant to leave the warmth of the fire last night to go hear poetry and music at the church, where neighbors of all ages read and sang and spoke from their heart. It too healed the body and soul, as did the friends and neighbors who cooked and called while I was down for the count over the weekend.
We come here thinking we are alone. Turns out, you know that thing about "No man is an Island?" It's true. Island is about community.