Off shore by ten miles, Monhegan Island is a small chunk of rocky land that’s 1.7 miles long and .7 miles wide. I’m out here for a two week retreat.
I’ve hiked for hours every day with Frieda (my dog). I stitched golden thread on kelp, sketched in my travel journal, drilled tiny holes in three crab shells, wove small webs on twisted juniper roots, re-read two favorite books, sent hand made postcards to loved ones, stared at the horizon, cooked dinners for one and was in bed most nights by 8:30.
Mostly I’ve taken time to be away - to gain perspective.
To just walk and walk and walk.
Somehow this walking, one foot in front of the other, with slow deliberate steps over rocky and root covered trails helps me feel anchored in the present. In a chaotic, unpredictable world, where I get wrenched by headlines, this feeling of being grounded in beauty and nature is potent medicine. Medicine that I suspect will reverberate for some time.
The full moon has come and gone. There is a perceptible shift in weather. It is time for me to return home. Leaving tomorrow on the 12:30 ferry, I will keep my eyes on the slowly receding island of Monhegan, feeling grateful for this opportunity to step away.
White Head cliffs from Burnt Head, Monhegan Island, Fall 2020
Gull Pond, Monhegan Island Fall 2020
Looking west from Monhegan, the setting sun. Fall 2020.
Maine crab shell with indigo dyed linen. September 2020, C.Sarah Haskell