Hey,

The sky is big down here, at the edge of the island. Clouds bank up like they’re stored here to be distributed to the rest of the country. The sea is usually in sight and, more often than not, there is a hill upon which to marvel at it all.

Everything is open above me, beyond me.

I love Penwith. It’s so far out on the swollen limb at the end of Cornwall that it's claimed itself back, out the other side of tourism’s latching grasp, and exists in a bubble beyond the rest of Cornwall. Penzance is a popular town, but everybody stops and waits the same when the harbour bridge swings open and a vessel enters the dry dock.

Ancient standing stones pierce the earth on tall hillsides and are lucky if more than a dozen cars pass them in a day. I don’t know if anybody stops to look.

There’s movement in the grass, birdsong in the heather.

“The hardest thing I’ve ever done”, Ryan at Land’s End Coffee Company told me “was winter in Penwith.” It doesn’t take much to imagine it. Last time we stayed here, it was the grumpy end of spring and the sky threw days of rainclouds from its pram. It became oppressive — backed up by the sheets of fog that rolled in off the Atlantic and over the torn cliffs of Pendeen.

Would there be some romance in that? Some deep, damp magic in the swirling fog and the creeping moisture? Wrapped up, low-lit afternoons resting on the ancient rocks of Chun Quoit? Breath meeting fog meeting sea meeting space.

Or would it be the dreary misery of dark mornings and cold evenings, set to repeat, repeat, repeat?

I don’t know what I want: a life out here, as west as west can go? A life away from the cold, dark winters of England? I want it all, I want none of it. I’m in a very funny place at the moment: questioning nomad life, questioning having a home base, feeling the stress of permanent housing’s unaffordability, feeling uninspired by moving further.

Maybe I should just watch the big sky build up for a little longer. Some answer might pass across if I look for long enough.

Slow down guide

Need a little help moving slower?

Ease your way out of Friday afternoon with this newsletter, a nice cup of something, and a little background music. Steal my setup if you aren't sure where to start.

After I press send, given my mention of Ryan already, it only seems right that I suggest treating yourself to a brew from Land’s End Coffee. Their Sevenstones roast is a reliable classic — sweet without being cloying, bold without being roasty, and great however you choose to brew it.

To accompany your cup of goodness, I’d love for you to give Hozier’s new release a spin. I loved his first album (it was weirdly the only music I ever enjoyed running to) and his second was good, without reaching the same heights. Unknown / Nth offers a hybrid of it all — soulful vocals and driving guitars meet gospel notes and, somewhere in the beautiful mix of it all, an outpouring of beauty happens. It’s moving and it’s wonderful and I hope beyond hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Take it easy,