Hermitage Blog
Copper Pots
We have ponds of water throughout our garden where the waterlilies grow, where the herons perch, where the wild donkeys and roaming livestock come to drink when the yard is still. They are made from raw iron; demi-spheres of various sizes, some broken, some tipped...
Beach Story
Beneath the sands of the beach at Gallows Bay, near the pier of our primary port Charlestown, lies the wreckage that time has buried on our shores; the iron, steel and heavy wooden timbers of the ships and the ruins that describe another age. It’s a field of debris...
Pantyhead
We speak our own dialect in Nevis, it is a version of English that is filled with its own rhythm and cadence, and rife with its own sublimated context. We speak with vagary and ambiguity because in a community of 11,000 it is easy to follow subtle references. But our...