Walking a World Unmapped

We caught the drift, we felt it. Without google, without maps — we knew where we were going.

Today I wanted to share a little meandering out into the world (that big wise old one, of which we all equally belong to) — fragments of a story naturally unfolding like the river that runs its own little rickety path beside me here in the middle of nowhere (but oh it must be somewhere!) West-of-Ireland wildness, bordered by that ancient, Atlantic sea (upon the stretch of land that is quietly becoming my home, again, after so many seasons spent away. But that’s a tale for a different day..).

Here, I am still following old, new routes through the landscape. I am still learning to sink into old joys and write new ways.

(Images from left: poem by Emily Dickinson and original artwork of my own).