The Holding Ground
From atop the ridge above town, our own Island, unlike any other, comes first to your longing view. Beyond it the other seaward islands keep well their guard and hold the Atlantic might secure from this sylvan valley by the sea. The way down over the ridge is your street; your road, your trail; you are home…
Masterless men came here searching for freedom. They trapped and fished, hunted and gathered. They built and stayed and never returned to tyranny. It is from such men and women our way was eked secure. The umbilical line from such beginnings can never be severed by distance. It forever brings us back to our rock, our foundation, our home.
It is the ethic in all of us to seek the fortunes of living. Often they are found far beyond the cove and hills of home. But the Inherent pulse common to all of us will forever draw us back to the Holding-ground.