If that which seems remote lies at the very heart of that which seems near, is it in fact remote? How is it that the centre is considered to be outlying, peripheral to the core? Bainbridge Island is approximately five miles (8 km) wide, and ten miles (16 km) long. At the midpoint of the island, where Sands terminates in the Grand Forest, where the trees meet the forest, just beyond the taming of the gardens, the orchard, the lawn, the essence of Island life is reslendently elaborated. The ferry defines centre as corner, as perimeter. In this charming refuge, held snuggly in nature’s embrace, the complexities of the commute and all that lies across the Sound, do not obscure the forest, the forest for the trees.