You'd think that on an island, you'd see weather approaching for miles. Yet this storm crept up on us, caught us unawares on the beach and, within minutes we were drenched as the clouds unleashed their fury. The beauty of isolation means that there is nowhere to shelter. We stood in the middle of this road, soaked to the skin, in fits of laughter. What else was there to do?
Sometimes we're blissfully unaware of trouble looming. Until it overtakes us. Even when there are signals all around we can fail to pick up on those. The truth is, we can't keep on running. And isolation leaves us exposed. When we can't run and we can't hide, its good to at least be able to share. Especially when laughter isn't an option.