We adored the place. Coming to it we used to run down to the lake, dip our hands in and wish, as if we had just seen the new moon. Going away from it, we were half drowned in tears. No matter where I was, wandering about the world, I used at night to look for the North Star and, in my minds eye, could see the beloved skyline of great hills beneath it.
Arthur Ransome
Floating in the perfect
rock channel harbour
of Wild Cat
Island of my imagination
and childhood reading.
Today I didn’t land
but basked in the sun
reflecting on half forgotten dreams,
happy that a life where this place
is just down the road
was one dream
I made happen.
And I wonder if there are
other dreams from younger days
buried in the habits of adulthood,
shadow realities
which I could choose to bring to life.
Life in the Fresh Air 