I do not miss your punishing winds that wail through cracks and gleefully knot hair, nor the driving rain and fog that hem the world in around one, as if as far as one can see is all there is, but I do miss you, Kerry. I miss your rugged fingers of land reaching into the sea, decorated with ancient stone fences. I miss the way the sun setting over the sea takes its time and paints the sky into several distinct works of art. I miss the calves and lambs kicking up their heels in the fields and the...