You’d think having no work for the summer would be conducive to writing. But unstructured days lead to unstructured thoughts, and the weeks go by, sweet and slow. The laptop stays closed; the camera uncharged.
A few trips, of course. The midlands, the west of Ireland. And a return to Jersey, the largest of the Channel Islands.
I love islands; left my comfortable life in America to return to the one I was born on. I’ve been happy ever since.
But Ireland, small as it is, seems big at times, and the impulse to retreat asserts itself. Sometimes that retreat is to an island off the west coast. Wild and rugged, it hurls itself at visitors like an Atlantic storm. A weekend visit can leave me exhausted, exposed. Exhilarated.
This year’s trip is long overdue.
Meanwhile, I managed to spend some time on a different island, in a different country…
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