"MY FIRST STEPS"
Island retreat
You see, I had run before... well in a fashion anyways.
A long time ago before my diagnosis and when things got bad and believe me they did, there were times when I was so upset, anxious or afraid, I used to retreat to the cliffs and literally run, no plan or technique, just primal flight. I lived on an island for 32 years and it was there, running alone on the brink, that I felt far enough away from the trauma and confusion to be able to think, to breathe and recalibrate.
Being an islander, I feel such an affinity with the sea, awash with its sensory offerings, such a stunning liquid medium with natural forces as the artist. Blues that merge into greens, becoming oil at night, a canvas constantly reinvented. How I love those tranquil waters, coated in thick molten metals, an immaculate finish, still and mirror like. There have been many times at sunset when transfixed by its appearance, I have imagined the earth rotating and the sea literally slipping like quicksilver around its surface.
But my beloved sea has been so much more, a light show of twinkling stars, the reflected sunlight playfully dancing on a rippling surface; right through to an unstoppable feral beast, roaring, swelling up and violently hurling its whole body against the red and brown granite, foaming at the mouth and hissing in embittered retreat. It is my private ocean gallery of priceless art where each and every state is a work of undeniable brilliance, so sadly missed now that I find myself "landlocked".
Images below: Island waters at their best. Hover over each image to enlarge. (I do not own the copyright to these beautiful images)
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Sarnia; dear Homeland, Gem of the sea.
Island of beauty, my heart longs for thee.
Thy voice calls me ever, in waking, or sleep,
Till my soul cries with anguish, my eyes ache to weep.
In fancy I see thee, again as of yore,
Thy verdure clad hills and thy wave beaten shore.
Thy rock sheltered bays, ah; of all thou art best,
I’m returning to greet thee, dear island of rest.
CHORUS
Sarnia Cherie. Gem of the sea.
Home of my childhood, my heart longs for thee.
Thy voice calls me ever, forget thee I’ll never,
Island of beauty. Sarnia Cherie.
I left thee in anger, I knew not thy worth.
Journeyed afar, to the ends of the earth.
Was told of far countries, the heav’n of the bold,
Where the soil gave up diamonds, silver and gold.
The sun always shone, and “race” took no part,
But thy cry always reached me, its pain wrenched my heart.
So I’m coming home, thou of all art the best.
Returning to greet thee, dear island of rest.
CHORUS
Original English-language lyrics written by George Deighton in 1911