Neat. Congratulations, Vaj. I never had an island of my own, but when I lived in Toronto I had one that I could visit anytime I wanted to. One of my favorite memories is of going up there during a cold snap (40 below zero Fahrenheit) and walking out on the frozen lake. The silence was so profound that I could hear these little microcracks appearing in the ice as I stepped on it, and the sound of them traveling away from me with each step. The cold was so bitter that every square inch of exposed skin hurt, but the silence... oh the silence...
--- In [email protected], Vaj <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: > > It's been a beautiful day here in New England. I've been working on a > long held dream to find a solitary meditation/relaxation retreat > surrounded by utter beauty and the raw simplicity of nature. > > Well in the last three weeks I finish negotiations on a 30 acre > island in a 45-mile long chain of lakes, secluded in the remotest > lake in that chain. Surrounded by native American land where moose > cavort, deer wander and river otters play in it's waters. Life is > very good. Soon I'll break bread with the "spiritual grandfather" of > the nearby tribe, as one of the benefits of having an island that's > never before been known to have inhabitants is that you get to name > the place. > > It's real fun I gotta tell you. There's nothing like going to a lake > and not seeing another soul nor (in the midst of hunting season) > hearing one gun, no cars to drive by, no planes overhead. Just > silence. The sensation of watching the waves of my kayak, the only > waves on a lake of glass, move out and disappear just emphasizes the > wonderful unity of it all. > > > On Nov 18, 2006, at 10:11 AM, new.morning wrote: > > > Its a constant source of wonder and whimsical pleasure to see how > > various people report their perceptions of the world in such > > interesting and diverse ways. (...) >
