Hello again. It has been over three months and I have truly missed you. Blogs are coming at a fast and furious pace to my mind and I have been resisting. I can resist no more… it all must out, and so I greet you once again. I wish to travel in a different sort of way with you, say once a week or so, and you are free to unsubscribe below if this is of no appeal, for I am moving now, not in the same sense, for the traveller has come home. Here in the forest where I live there is material a’plenty and I have so wanted to tell you about the big fat mouse I found in my pear tree, and the robin that seemingly wished to be such a part of my life that he flew at the window when I would come into the house. The robin seems to be off about his business now, the wing marks on the window are old, not fresh, and while there seems to be an abundance of robins around I am not entirely sure it is the robin that watches me as I work around the land. They call the island the “velvet rut”. Before my travels I felt restless, bound somehow by the geography but since I have come home it is different. The initial landing seemed like I had returned from a distant realm, almost as if I was a ghost re-entering my own house, ethereal and detached. What, I own these things, I said to myself? I had forgotten. The urgency of my daughter’s wedding was a re-induction most dire. I quickly reasserted myself here amid the shrubberies. She is most wedded now and I find myself basking in the afterglow of their mutual happiness in rather a new way. The travels I wrote to you of seemingly a bridge from an old life to a new one, and the box I formerly dwelled within no longer fits, my tresses and limbs spilling out in most alarming fashion. I tire of resisting this and I tire of resisting all of the words that want to reach out to you. The letting go is such a release. So here you have it on this day of glorious summer sunshine.
