Thoughts on the 18th day of the 9th Month, 2020.
Exactly to the minute of one week since arriving at this tiny house.
I am utterly grateful for this opportunity to live in this life changing place by the sea. It wasn’t an easy journey but I am finally here.
Every moment, I feel connected to the earth and I’m mindful of the days through the ever present wind, the break through of the sun and the pure blue skies, the wetness moving in over the hill – the weight of water moving in a line of cloudy fog, hail crashing onto the skylight at the top of the stairs so that the cats and I run around thinking we were under siege – new sounds, the weather making my face raw and ruddy and my hair in sea spray straw and above it all, this tiny house that is becoming the love of my life.
The kindness of friends and neighbours helping me arrive and settle in: B – meeting me at the ferry then driving me to the house, flowers and veg from C and H, BD – bringing me peats and coal for my first hearth fire, D brought me a Sunday dinner and E, brought me home grown flowers and shiny wholesome home grown veg last night.
Post cards from well wishers from all over the world begin to fill the wall.
I hear the geese fly over the house, knowing that they fly in their perfect V formation. I step outside to watch how they change position and take turns to fly at the point of the V facing into the wind, the rest in the slip stream. I am learning every moment, every day. Old stones surround my house. Standing on hand hewn stones is grounding.
I have 3 doors – a front door that is mostly open, a small white glazed porch door and an interior door with a very old square wooden latch opener. It’s wonderful. How many people have turned the wooden latch-block before me to open the wooden latch inside? The inside latch clicks and hits the wooden housing and on that recognisable sound I hear the thud of the cats jumping off the bed in the bedroom above to come to greet me.
They have settled so well – now I put them out in the middle of the night if they are talking too much. They roam the area and roll in the sunshine outside the house on the road. They squint into the wind and rain and change their minds about going out. They are becoming island cats.
I am painting the visible wood in the window frames outside before the Winter sets in, I need to order coals, oil for the heating and any number of things. I still need to learn how to read the oil tank but I have managed to get the oven clock working so now I the oven works.
I am learning new things every time I turn around – looking at the hedgerow flowers growing with their faces away from the wind, the beach changes by the day, I search for heart shaped stones, I peel slugs the size of snakes from my porch floor, I move plants into a place of shelter, I wake and look out of the window towards the East for the sunrise every day – from the ship that is my bed sailing in a tiny house built into a bank for shelter. My TV doesn’t work but my environment is my TV.
This place will, at times, challenge me but I feel that there is nothing I cannot overcome. I’m beyond grateful for this time to live properly, feel deeply, touch the earth with integrity.
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3 thoughts on “Smola, Shetland. One week in.”
No tele! But internet obviously.
Looks lovely. A pretty house full of history, grown out of the island. Nice place. Really nice.
It all sounds bleak and raw, which has a great appeal and great for woollens. No way to plant any kind of garden I suppose, no trees? No shelter outside?
Only the wide, wildness of the sea and the sand and the sky… you keep warm now.
Definitely don’t need a telly.! And dont forget me!!! Jx
Welcome to Shetland, I’m sure you will enjoy the way of life here.