It is still today, like the sky was exhausted, the winds gone. The sea calmer, the illusion complete. T’is an illusion. We, who live out here in the wild of the wild, know this. But, we have always known this. There are wilder places, and I have heard of their experiences, of torn off rooves, a disputed plural, hallo Dad, mid storm, of sheep out there, hopefully somewhere, of cattle on the cusp of cliffs, of subsidence, of trees falling on pretty much everything, of no power, no neighbours able to walk to help, of all of it. But when the still comes, we run with it. No, not that for those of us who know that this is how it is, and how more it is. I am not one, anymore, one. whom lives in the way beyond. Actually, I never was, not really. The Outer Hebrides are, well Outer. The storms they meet are huge, no, HUGE. I wonder if we ever think of that? Or, are we caught up in the ‘inconvenience of winter storms, because, what, they limit travel to something or someone? Loss of power for 24 hours, for 3 days, loss, btw of any chance of communication, so dependant are we on those who seem to own us now.

It thinks me. It might think you. I notice that, once the still comes in, after the biggest storm in ages, apparently, which, I must confess, laughs me, as there have been so many storms within those ‘ages’, we run on again, chasing jobs we hate, running after things we really don’t want to align with just because someone in authority wants it for us, or just running from what is no longer happy. I wonder, as I write this, if someone, who has survived whatever they survived in this storm, is now questioning the running?

Well, if you are, be brave. I know that sounds impossible. But, it is your freedom. You’l have to stop and turn. You are change. A rare leader.