Orkney Crossing
Orkney Crossing : Ring of Brogdar, Stones of Stenness. At the centre, the pendulum drops, Down, down, down. Think, imagine, centre. Concentrate, reach, reach out. My thoughts have not yet shifted and sifted or sorted themselves into chapters. They are still out to sea. I am looking towards Orkney from on board the good ship Hamnavoe just past the Old Man of Hoy, an enveloping fog bank drops. A smothering grief, moves over me imperceptibly. Covering, obscuring, changing outlines and landmarks, erasing the compass until I am submerged. And although I know my feet stand planted on deck and I hear the ships engine roaring on and on. there is no feeling of forward motion, nothing to indicate progress through the water. The fog covers all. Floating clouds how vast, how vast. How you deaden with white light. How you deafen with density. How you change the topography with veils of water. And you waters above the heavens, ...