Everyone comes from somewhere.

I am blessed to come from a magical little island cast out upon the sea, where the land is filled with rolling hills and endless shoreline. It is here among the red dirt roads and the patchwork fields that I find all the pieces of myself.

When I was a child, I ran wild and free, exploring every inch of my little corner of this tiny island. I climbed trees and scraped knees and counted stars in the sky. This little island nurtured my spirit and imagination and gifted me the heart of a poet.

As I sit by my open window I feel the warm summer breeze on my face and hear the familiar ballad of the songbirds in the trees and I am content. If I inhale deeply I can detect the faintest hint of sea salt in the air as I breathe in the essence of this beautiful place.

One day, when I am gone, pieces of me will remain in this place that I love. My voice will be the wind that whispers through the jack pine at dusk, my spirit will lift with the fog in the harbour at dawn, and my clay red heart will go on beating to the rhythm of the tide.

Like a seed planted in rich soil, I have taken root. I am part of this island and this island is part of me.