Readers often talk with me about Wren Island as if it really exists. And there’s something incredibly special that can happen when the lines between reality and fiction are blurred.
When we let ourselves believe in Wren Island, we find courage to reach for the something better we know is out there.
For example, a reader once chatted with me about her changing home situation. She had reached an age where mobility was becoming an issue. Doctor appointments dominated the schedule. The rest of the world seemed to be galloping off faster and faster. The beloved family home was becoming too much to care for, the property too much to maintain.
This dear reader was facing a difficult question. If I can’t live here anymore, where will I go?
What she really wanted, she explained, was a safe place to land. A comfortable house stocked with everything she needed. A property that hosted cute critters, both domestic and wild. A welcoming place that somehow took care of itself and was filled with people she loved. After spelling it all out, she sighed.
“Maybe I could live on Wren Island.”
Another time, a reader contacted me after she’d visited my hometown on Fidalgo Island. She and her husband had sat on a bench eating ice cream at the marina. They had scanned the boats in port, looking for Allison Theodore’s bright yellow cruiser.
“But Allison must have been back home on Wren,” this reader told me. “So I’ll just catch up with her there.”
These readers let their imaginations fly in that mysterious space between reality and fiction. While living in the real world, they embraced everything Wren Island represents. Everything that is worth pursuing.
Wren Island life is about opening our hearts to people we love—and people we find difficult to love. Offering second chances to others and accepting second chances for ourselves. Reaching for love—reaching for the very best, true, steadfast kind of love—and trusting that we’ll be better for having done so. And, always, Wren Island life is about hope.
But what if we could visit Wren Island? How would we spend our time, and who would we bring along? What would we pack in our bags, and what treasure would we want to bring home with us?
Here’s a sampling of responses from Wren Islanders like you:
- I’d bring my latest crochet project, a real paperback, and zero expectations. I pack light, so I’d bring the minimum—jeans, tees, sneakers, slouchy sweater, and Chanel No. 5. Memories would be my souvenirs.
- I’d pack a whistle to attract the birds. Or the fish??? I don’t know if a whistle even works for this. Also, I would pack a small garden tool for digging in the sand. I would dig for bird-shaped sea glass or bird-shaped driftwood. That’s what I’d bring home.
- I’d spend a lazy afternoon walking the beach with a friend. Breathing in salt air, walking slowly across the sand, and looking down to discover. I wouldn’t scoop up handfuls of glass worn smooth by the ocean. I’d look for a few special pieces. Someday I want to make a collage of sea glass. I have been saving these gems for decades.
- Wouldn’t it be fun to collect heart-shaped stones from every island you traveled? If we find a heart-shaped rock, it’s better. We try to collect one from where we go and then write on it where we went and when.
- I’d like to go sailing with you. I would pack my camera and a picnic lunch. I’d like to bring back some smoked salmon.
- The first thing I would do is scour the beach for an agate. I would be sad if I had to leave without finding one! … I’d pack both warm and cool clothes, a light windbreaker, a journal and pen, walking shoes and beach shoes, a hat, toothbrush and paste, sunscreen, soap and binoculars. You did ask! After the beach I’d stop by the store for a coffee and food and head for a scenic place for lunch. I’d break out my binoculars, looking for shorebirds and whales. Then I’d head for the forest and hike around the island. I’d definitely want to book a room somewhere. Maybe, the next day, we could take a boat out to go whale watching!
- My husband and I would hang out with the folks in the commune. I’d bring my phone so I could capture pics like Aunt Amelia. The greatest treasure I could bring back with me would be an invitation from the locals to return.
You won’t find Wren Island on any world map, but it does exist. We find it whenever we imagine what could be. Whenever we reach for courage, anticipate joy, trust in love, hope for something better.
On Wren Island, our everyday, real-world longings find a safe place to try their wings. And hope that seemed hard to grasp transforms into a shape we can hold on to. That’s the Wren Island vibe. And we can bring it with us, always, wherever we go.
For more of Wren Island, check out the books.
Wren Islanders determine what happens (and doesn’t happen) on Wren!
[Photo courtesy of Unsplash.]
