Windgrove

Life on the Edge

Wedge Island lights

The hill behind the house climbs to 500 feet before leveling off as a ridge that extends for a couple of miles in an easterly direction parallel to the coast.

wedge dusk 1

This evening I took Tim, my cellist friend, up to the top to catch some of the beauty that only height can bring. Looking south straight into the Southern Ocean there was only one land mass between us and the Antarctic. This was the wind shaped speck of land called Wedge Island floating two and a half miles off shore.

Blue black clouds of a distant storm front were the back drop, but right on cue the setting sun peaked through to cast a lone beam of light upon the island turning its westward side into a glowing beacon of…..

Of what? Hope, maybe? Like a lighthouse for storm wracked sailors?

This evening, Wedge was such a symbol. After a hectic day at the computer and on the phone working to organise the Parliament House vigil and feeling overwhelmed at times with the immensity of the project, not to mention its importance to the trees, it was soothing to my soul to see such an exquisite and reassuring guiding light.

“Yes!”, was it’s simple message. “Yes!”

Back at the house, I reflected on those friends of mine who, in their far off lives, are a Wedge Island to me. Who give me encouragement, permission, guidance, to be who I am simply by their being just who they are.

For all of us, even though we might literally be cut off from the mainland of city life, or emotionally feel adrift in the dark vastness of everyday life, we each can still reflect light, love and compassion across the divide.

Even in our aloneness, we can each sing out our own unique island voice and, in so doing, reach unknown shores.

Whether we know it or not, someone on some distant hill top just might gather in our distant “smoke signal” of love and find themselves refreshed.

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