Martha’s Vineyard is the first place I ever felt really landed on earth.  As if up until that time, I had been fluttering, hovering, searching.  Then I found myself on Menemsha beach early one morning, watching the sea wave through the seaweed, the stone of the jetty dark wet and salty and thought, “I am here.”

I am here again.  And still the island is deep earth for me, not home any longer, but where I am rooted, peaceful, quiet.  Today, I think I’ll walk this way: