proximity and storm

 The proximity of death changed me forever. Most obviously it changed my estimation of safety and my experience of storms. 

I cannot ever see the beauty of a storm again as I did before. I remember the Black fort on Inis Mor. The weather had been dreary and raining all afternoon. But I did not have the foresight to ponder the development close enough. It was still all fine and well when I set out. I did the grand tour, sort of (...)/. A walk over the highest road, coming down low to the sea shore so I could pass over to the "head" of the island. - Watching the incoming tide flood the meadow beyond the road, washing in right through the foundation (...) Everything was sunny and I just kept walking - though I did not know the way. I lost so much time while getting lost (and having to ~retract(?)(/retrace?) several times) that the weather was/seemed close to impossible/ unbearable(?) when I had finally managed to get a good way up on the right track. I was kind of stuck. In my had. I had said I would go there today, I had set my mind to/ on it. So I kept walking, although the rain and the dark sky didn't look promising. 

written by Lilly Lime