Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Passage through the channel, in the dark and then daylight, a rotation, a great wheel. And the boat's motors chug. And the air bites.

Then I am stepping onto land again, lugging my bags through the roads of Puerto Williams and up the hill to Nido Claro, our little nest in the light.

My red tin home perches over there, on the left. I open the door.

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