we are islands

An early autumn jaunt to Great Barrier Island - aka The Barrier. Aotea. The Magic Island. 
Unhindered by possoms, mustelids, brown rats, deers or hedgehogs, the bush is different from the mainland. 
So are other things - pace, space, breath, dark, love.  
Seaweed garlands and water blue as liquid icebergs. 
Mermaid pools and soft rivers with hot healing fissures.
Off the grid, warm waxy light.  Coal range and long drop.
Sweet smelling scrub, soles caked with red mud.  Shafts of silver and gold. 
Last nights snapper sitting in fillets. 
A slice of life.....

As we beach-crawled the canines ran sprints and surfed for sticks. The days began with the sun and nights with fire.
We are lucky to have friends who live in the island; one is a ceramic artist.  We swap her works for coffee beans and have accumulated a fine collection. Recently she has been making sculptural pieces from firing chucks of clay that fall off a roadside cliff. Her work is pretty special.

"Island can represent the locus of a psychic factor that maroons one from what is most vital in the self. Or, it may express the unforeseen, inviolable space where the treasure of self is found."(The Book Of Symbols - Reflections on Archetypal Images)