journalling

Seasons control the rhythm of life in the village. In late September harvesters are gobbling and spitting the cane into …

A crimson sunrise gave way to regatta skies. I imagined the rooms buzzing, a boarding establishment on break-up day; it …

Quarantine was a chance to bask in a five-star resort, free (I thought). So, when my expectations collapsed, my public …

Puerto Rican American poet William Carlos Williams said, “Time is a storm in which we are all lost. Only inside …

This morning I locked myself out of my hotel suite, barefoot, maskless, wearing pyjama bottoms. OK, I also had a …

If you’ve invited birds to Sunday lunch, on Monday your place is trashed. There is no cloth or household cleaner, …

Today I needed warm-bodied company, so I placed fruit on the terrace and didn’t wait long; bulbuls were soon snatching …

12 September 2020 It took five days to shake off gastro, which I must have traded with at least one …

Quarantine is not unbearable. It’s frustrating and restrictive, but today I’m energetic. Hayley Cassim’s gym sessions have smoothed away knots, …

The day breaks with a cool drizzle and dancing palms. Movement is energy, I leap up to catch the sunrise. …