The beginning of an interesting week of exploring inner and outer worlds on (and off) an island that is isolated from the mainland by the tides for nearly half of the day. It was intriguing to hear themes, connected threads, developing as I listened to what was going on around me. On day one, spent on the island, I had a conversation about dream diaries in the priory, and was recommended to visit a castle on the mainland the following day. On day two I arrived at the castle to find it closed until the afternoon, so I headed instead for Cragside, the home of a wealthy industrialist who harnessed hydroelectric power to run the household. I was carrying a camera with a shift lens which immediately grabbed the guides attention, and in conversation he suggested a visit to the ‘Owl’ suite, where the Prince of Wales had stayed, which became something of a link over the following days (birds in general, Owls in particular). There’s so much more to the island than the main street and the priory of course. When the tide was in, the island was much quieter and the shops closed, I felt I could really hear the island speak to me. Towards sunset I joined several locals near the causeway to watch, the skies are so big here. Exploring the quieter parts of the island gives great opportunities for meditation in peaceful surroundings, except for the occasional ‘peep’ of the the Oystercatchers, and the days soon passed. My channelling sessions were rich and rewarding and it seemed I was getting quite a lot from withdrawing myself to somewhere more ‘accessible’ for it to take place. By the last full day on the island I was surprised to be drawn back to the beach beyond the castle after my morning meditation. I dutifully followed and became mesmerised by someone balancing large pebbles/stones on the beach and foreshore. After photographing and watching I eventually spoke with him. He was a Swiss visitor walking the Northumbrian Coast Path, all 100km of it. When asked about balancing the ‘pebbles’ he said that before he could balance them, he had to find his inner point of balance and the stones just followed as he moved them. We arranged to meet later to join the church service and have a meal and a beer at the pub – he was camping and didn’t have much for a meal. It was a fascinating evening’s conversation with another pilgrim, particularly as the tide was in and the island was quiet. He’d walked onto the island and wondered if I could give him a lift back to the mainland, so we agreed to meet for breakfast nearby to make the return journey. In the event he’d changed his mind but wanted to give me a present as a thank you anyway, a book of Best Loved Poems with a cover illustration of The Owl and the Pussy-cat. My return journey to Newcastle to return the key took me via Seaton Delaval for a quick visit and tales of the wild partying of the wealthy, then on to Eyam for another overnight at the YHA.