Age of Community

The dust of previous occupancy smothers any possibility of individual reckoning. Like a swathe of blankets thick in felt and embroidery the weight of others is overbearing.

Yet this place names itself the community, so I wonder why do I feel so estranged? Rather than becoming engulfed in the question I judge it better to retreat to the pebble beach, take solace with the solitary fishermen, cast my cares to the clouds, abandon my thoughts to the rolling sea. The talk turns to Finnish lodges, space in the heart of the forest, a place to sauna and swim au natural - this sounds more like an enlightened engagement with life to me.