We are writers. We are artists. We are environmental stewards.
Join us for four Sundays as we welcome the community to a space for exploring our connection to the land and water of the South Coast.
“ Landmarks is a book about the power of language - 'strong style, single words' - to shape our sense of place. It is both a field guide to the literature the author loves (Nan Shepherd, Roger Deakin and many more), and a 'word-hoard', gathering an astonishing archive of place-terms from old Norse to Anglo-Romani, living Norman to Hebridean Gaelic. Over the book's course, via its chapters, its glossaries and surprise of its postscript - we come to realize that words, well used, are not just a means to describe landscape, but also a way to know it, and to love it.”
A conversation exploring the places, markers, and stories that shape our sense of place.
Reflections from Part I: What and Where Are Our Landmarks?
During the opening session, participants reflected on their personal landmarks — grandfather maple trees, rising moons over the harbor, stones shaped by geological time.
What unfolds here are moments of insight and care: a desire for protected landscapes, respect for shared waters, and a deep sense of connection to place. We are grateful to all who contributed their thoughts and presence.
Before the Storm
The sky lowers, a gray backdrop to the spidery, gray-brown tree branches.
A freshening breeze moves the branches whose buds hint at the thickening to come.
Here in the village the houses are far older than the people who live in them. Quite often the houses, too, are gray. One has a contrasting red roof, another abode's roof is only slightly darker than the facade.
Soon snow will cover roofs, porches, and cars. The wind will drive the heat from the houses and their occupants.
Already the birds have left for shelter. Dusk will come early and dawn late. Tomorrow will be dark, although perhaps not the inkiness of late December or early January. The late February sun, offering little heat, will struggle to light the world through thick, wind driven snow.
In such moments, it is easy to forget that the sun's energy drives the storm, enhanced by the heat of our human activity. It is so tempting to forget that snow is an endangered species, that the beauty of the storm is transitory, as ephemeral as the wildflowers waiting to burst into March brilliance.
– Michael Watson
