This past Friday - it was all I could do to stay inside- so I didn’t and rather than dutifullly checking off the items on my ever present to do list - I puttered - moving from task to task as I was drawn to them. And it was the perfect day to put on the screen doors. By the end of the afternoon the house had shifted, more air moving through it, more light, that subtle seasonal exhale. And now, every time I walk in, the screen swings shut behind me with that sharp, familiar crack, and without any warning at all, I’m gone.

Living on a small island doesn’t mean living in a small world. News, change, and the weight of global events reach us here just like anywhere else. But the rhythms of island life—tides, seasons, animals, gardens—offer a kind of perspective.