Lamma Island, 10:17AM – Sunny.

Entry 105

Finally autumn is here. An arrival as late as my writing. This morning the air is crisp enough for winter clothes to be hung to dry overnight. Wagtails are holding court around a banana tree down by the nullah. A fat white dog waddles by. Then a three legged one, hopping, happy. I kick a half-rotten pomelo into the jungle on my way down the hill. It feels good to do something like that which is not figurative, which is not a half-rotten thought. It feels good to know that if I kick the half-rotten pomelo into the jungle it will rot into the soil and feed a tree.