Then finally the sun came out, the wind died, and I got on my mountain bike and went out for a ride.
The Brickyard was my furthest point out. There is something about ruins that can't help but make you think. This is what is left of the Water Wheel which supplied all the power. It is hard to imagine a time before ubiquitous electric motors and gas engines.
My shadow sends a friendly wave (from a safe distance!). But the trail beckons.
We arrive at the highest point on the Island; Peaked Hill. Gay Head is in the distance. With all the rain it has become a land of lakes:
On the way home the Keith Farm is always a sight to see.
Marianne and I share a grilled steak dinner and a massage.
Life is good again.