Fronhaul, Rhosycaerau, Cymru
Time has taken on very strange dimensions for me, pleasant ones actually. Another week slips gently into my experience. It seems as if seven lifetimes have been lived out during this short interval. It seems as if I have always been here. Images of life here on these rocky outcropping have soaked deeply into my experience - the experience of sunrise over the Preseli Mountains, watching light pools dance across the valley, the sounds of farm animals embracing the day, the way wind blows through the sturdy stubby trees. As I often found on board ship, clouds seem to have the ability to disappear after sunset, and magnificent scatterings of diamonds appear in a clarified sky on the event horizon that rushes across the heavens at the edges of night.
My world was very compact today. I never got more than fifty feet from where I started the day, yet great vistas of mountains and seas were before me all day. A couple of times tiny squalls of rain passed over the skylights but it was always dry when I went outside.
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