On the edge of the ocean: the wisdom of two visual artists and a pheasant

craving solitude and finding connection

I thought I was there to be alone with my novel. I thought nourishment would come from solitude.

At an artist residency in Nova Scotia recently, I watched a pheasant strut by my window, often stopping to pose. When he allowed me these moments of reprieve from my work, I couldn't help but laugh. Chest out, he allowed me to appreciate him.

We entertained e…