Harvest
Inaugural voyage of The Nancy-Doris, Tuesday 1st September 2020 [This morning in the polytunnel cabbage-white butterflies beat erratic: also many wings without bodies scattered the floor. Early harvest for spiders: picture them in their web-hammocks, slurping from husks; like cocktails out of coconuts. Hmm, says I, this is true: metamorphosis is beautiful not immortal; the cycle of life is also this, littered with wings, the memento mori. Get writing, I say to myself. Write the books before your pages are blowing away and the tutting spiders of time are sampling your puree. 'Caffeine rich earthiness, layered with seaweed oil, a top note of lime blossom.'] This afternoon, task by task we achieved new things: lifting our kayak to the Dacia roof, looping straps, securing straps (quick prayer for effectiveness of anchor points), Check list: seats, paddles, dry bag, an emergency phone app for contacting coastguards, and so forth. Deciding what to wear as the weather blows cold,