Tuesday, June 1, 2010
I took an early walk down to the beach this morning, and found the this rather broken paper nautilus shell, in among the seaweed and the p-plater crabs. A bit symbolic I suppose - a fragile thing travelled across thousands of miles of sea to fetch up on a lonely beach on a remote island. I had several miles of sand-curve beach to myself... well, as the only human. The sky was slate fragments and the low-tide flats, full of the broken reflections seemed to go right on to the horizon. Across it a scattering of oystercatchers - looking for all the world like slightly disdainful matrons in widow's weeds (with red stockings!) at a bargain-basement sale stalking the sand-bar aisles. Sometimes I get so caught up in surviving, working, cooking, working, waiting, worrying that I lose sight of the sheer granduer of it.
And this time next week my boys will be here. My Roly-poly-puddin'-n-pie- kissed the girls an got a black eye Old English got his smellogram and has been eating like a horse... or a labrador. has put on 1.5kg. All of them, Dats and cog babies, will be out of quarantine on the 21st.
Family all together again, soon.