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.…