It’s the end of August and soon it will be time for me to emerge from the semi-cryogenic state that characterises my summers. 18 years ago, as an American young adult on a backpacking trip around Europe, it was hard for me to understand why everything on this continent seemed to come to a grinding halt in August. Shops closed, rail schedules changed, restaurants had little signs in their windows announcing closure for a whole month. A whole month?! Madness!
Having settled here and adopted the ways of my foster country, I have completely embraced that halt that comes with August (who wouldn’t?). I make no phone calls (everybody is away anyway). I do no business (they’re all closed). I don’t go out much, and if I do, it’s to find more trees to enclose me, more green underfoot, more blue above me.
Enclosed in this cocoon, I find that creativity comes alive. Every day I am writing in my journal, enjoying the way words hold hands to form pictures. So while this blog has been dormant for a little while, I do hope to return to it when I have regained feeling in my fingers and toes, stretched my limbs and had a big yawn.
If you’re interested, I’ve contributed a few pieces elsewhere.
Here is a piece about cluster nursing, featured in the most recent issue of Breastfeeding Today.
I’ve contributed twice to the Mud Puddles to Meteors blog, with photos and words about two of my family’s favourite places. Here’s one about Rhossili Beach and the South Gower Coast and another about Huishinish Point.