I might live surrounded by land just now, but that deep down I am an island spirit. For my genealogy is told of it. Plus, I have actually lived upon an island. During that time I wasn’t able to appreciate the Mesolithic, Neolithic, Pict and Viking archaeology, for I was busy with the mundane of life and budgeted to do so. Beautiful wild birds perched on my dry stone wall, mammals looked in at me from the ocean and I knew I belong to the land, to the earth and that I am an island spirit. I am not of the sea, for there it is to cross, to wave goodbye to land or loved one and there is where the lonely dwells, looking over it to the distant line, where water meets sky. I am an island spirit that loves the smell of ocean and yet plants in the soil a future. Some of my grandparents were born to it, I’ve also inhabited an Orkney croft and home to live in the baking of bread, fetching the messages, lighting the fire and walking the edges being watched by the wildlife.
Over Soil 
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