An island always pleases my imagination, even the smallest, has a small continent and integral portion of the globe. I have a fancy for building my hut on one. Even a bare, grassy isle, which I can see entirely over at a glance, has some undefined and mysterious charm for me.
Henry David Thoreau, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers
I finally returned to the very first landscape I began on the first day here. Before the workshop arrives tomorrow, I am trying to finish up some of my starts, as well as begin a few new ones. I was surprised at reading this portion of Thoreau just a few moments ago, and of course the text resonated with me deeply. I envy my neighbors to the south in that gold-colored house, wondering if it is a summer home, or how often they come out to stay in it. I have not seen a human being on the premises both times I have been on this island. And there are never lights showing at night. Like this island I am on, it is small and manageable, and the grasses and wildflowers are mesmerizing.