Is there such a thing as island time? I wore my watch on an island on Lake Huron and here is what i discovered. There are moments where i breathe more inside of them, slowing down on a trail that only leads to the dock or bathroom to anticipate seeing a small green pine tree planted or the woven curve of tree trunks crossing the path. There is time known; like in August at least, the sun sets between 8 and 8:30pm. or leaves the back dock around 4:15pm. There is time to read but the words start to trail away in soft air and soft water in less than a page until i lay the book on my chest and think about them. where i get hot and jump in without thinking i better do this now or i will run out of time and have to go.
The trees string together to form a canopy of shade with spears of sun worked through. My eyes got used to island shade where the light of a computer screen, even a lamp feels like too much. Chopping vegetables in island light means looking at them not just seeing them as objects to be handled, made more edible. at first, i kept trying to speed up or slow down; have control over the island effect. What worked was walking across layers of sideways slabbed granite, hypnotic focus on placing my feet until it became a kind of rhythmn of breath and legs together; a slowed down run of the kind i love but only get once in a while. That empty, full, oddly happy synchronicity....
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