There is a wildness here, but also a wiseness. The equanimity of the home seems only by sheer will able to quiet itself amidst the trees that tower above it; the expanse of sea below, audible even behind closed doors and windows; and the outstretching sky, in unfaltering alliance with the water. From the deck, one gazes due south towards the islands. The rest of the home is tucked into the hill, and surrounded by trees. Untamed, uncultivated, unrestrained – seeming contradiction, in concord, unflappable, through defiant perseverance. A retreat from hectic urban life? Perhaps not. A writer’s needed solitude? Indeed.