After a two-week quarantine, I’m back home taking a break from multiple dramas unfolding in the States. It’s been healing to decompress in the verdant, wet and mossy forests of a rainy island. My days have been quiet as I pitch in, providing manual labor on the wooded land and in the house. I’m getting reacquainted with the calls of eagles and grunts of sea lions, playing with the family animals and doing lots of “forest bathing” on mountain hikes. The internet here is head-bangingly slow, so I’m not glued to updates of the latest news.
To keep my artist’s eye alive, I’m taking lots of pictures on my walks. I don’t know if I’ll use any of them as resource material for paintings, but I enjoy observing and documenting. I keep waiting for “Mr. and Mrs. Ruckus”, two ravens I’ve heard about, to appear, but so far, they’ve been shy. Today there’s supposed to be heavy rain in the afternoon. I’m going to take my breakfast at the beach, then work out and see how my help is needed. I’ve been unloading and hauling gravel the past couple days. The crunch of shovel into gravel is satisfying, meditative work and my spirit has appreciated the calmness of these days.