The Journal

Before we set off on these last travels my husband bought for me, a leather journal.

He said he wanted me to write in it.

Here, I laid it down to write and dropped my rucksack at my feet.

I’m standing on the inside wall of a ring fort, called Dun Eochla.

This ring fort stands above the island where my father’s family comes from, and still lives.

It’s likely over 1000 years old.

It occurred to me that my ancestors could very easily have been part of the building of this amazing place.

And did they know that 1000 years later, their family would still be there, and journey to there-from far away places.

And the journal, though I laid it open to where I had been writing…

Flew open in the wind

To empty pages.

Yet to be written.

And I not only wonder, I will write it down, about family yet to be.

And 1000 years more from now,

Will another one of us come here to wonder about me.

And those before.

Who stood at this very spot.  And saw ocean so blue, sky never ending.

What did they think.

I wish,

They had had a journal.