A painting in the spare room, where I stayed, at John's house enforces his connection with the ocean.
The two and a half mile walk across the island in cold weather is a challenge. Trips to the farm for fresh milk are much more irregular than in previous years.
John rights his boat after a two year upturned redundancy. It will need six fiberglass patches before being seaworthy for summer fishing.
John taking a stroll around his garden to look for the second anchor to his boat.
A painting of John on the living room wall that was done a few years ago by a neighbor on the Island.
Rusting away, the front door key is rarely taken out of the lock. In the reflection John sorts a new gas bottle for the stove.
The only source of permanent heating in the house is a Raeburn fitted in the living room, leaving the rest of John's home prone to damp.
John's living room window overlooks the bay of Port Mor on the island. A passionate reader and poet this view is an important part of day-to-day life.
John's slippers, a very treasured comfort when walking around the perpetually cold stone floor.
13 MILES CLOSER TO THE EDGE
Having walked many paths in life, from the adrenaline of war to the management of a local shop, John Morris found tranquillity in the Isle of Muck, off Scotland's west coast, as a turning point for his former self. Suffering with COPD and diabetes led to a medical discharge from the military, where he thrived as an engineer. Sixteen years later he confides in the seclusion of the Isle as the holder of his liberty.