"I write to tell stories," says Finnish author Eppu Nuotio. "I believe that there are some professions in the world that will last forever: doctor or nurse, teacher, builder, and storyteller. I write also to become myself, more so day by day. Writing is a way to shape the visible and invisible, in myself as well as in the world."
Here on Nattadon Hill, dawn shapes the visible and invisible...
telling stories of light and shadow...
while at the edge of a field, a small black dog listens intently. (Look close, and you will see her.)
Tilly translates the land's stories for me. She is a trickster, a boundary crosser, moving between the human world and the numinous landscape, its language formed of light, rain, scent, and time.
"Love and translation look alike in their grammar," says Argentinian writer Andrés Neuman. "To love someone implies transforming their words into ours. Making an effort to understand the other person and, inevitably, to misinterpret them. To construct a precarious language together."
Each morning, Tilly and I walk the land and construct a language, a story, all our own.
"We are storied folk. Stories are what we are; telling and listening to stories is what we do." - Arthur Kleinman