Islands are passionate things.
They are the drips in a Pollack painting, the teardrop in an earring,
the question mark and exclamation at the end of a sentence.
How boring the world would be if we only had continents!
Islands are the imagination’s longed-for paradise and nightmarish place of exile,
a bell jar sheltering the strangely beautiful.
Tantalizingly scattered at the edges, they draw the voyager into the unknown.