for Ilhan Sami Çomak
It was a chance encounter – I was taking my usual walk, he was visiting for the day. The hills could be seen in the distance, linking sides all the way up the coast. We stood there for about fifteen minutes, deep in conversation, both of us knowing our paths would never cross again. I have no idea of what was said, only that our words echoed off each other, rose up to create a cloud-shadow that turned the hills to memory-blue. For months now I have searched for words to send you, having forgotten that what is said is less important than the saying of it which, when well-intentioned, forms a cloud-shadow that changes the landscape, be it the hillside of bygone days or the future-gorse out on the island, turned to deepest gold.