At the southernmost edge of the country, a low peninsula stretches out from the inland heaths toward the open sea, often wrapped in an extraordinary light. I stand still there, looking out at what has so often felt, throughout my life, like the end of the world. There is something about that edge that quiets the noise in my head. The light never loses its hold on me; it continues to feel almost unreal. Here, I feel closer to myself.

I lean into the wind. The presence of something vast and powerful, paired with the absence of the everyday sounds I’m usually surrounded by, eases the tightness in my chest.

There is a calm in feeling small in a place that is both immense and intimate at the same time