In the middle of two weeks’ leave from the workplace, and slowly spinning down.
I roast T-bone steaks and wash floors and thin out the vegetable garden.
I listen to the scimitar-billed Wood Hoopooes and read the news.
I paint the outer walls of the house and burn Myrrh and Rose to the New Moon.
I commiserate with canine companions feeling poorly and clean out overstuffed bedside drawers.
I look at pictures of tornado damage in the United States and read the complete works of H P Lovecraft.
I dream with a strange aura.
And, above and beneath all, I am held in wonder and awe by the recurring thought which slips across my mind every day:
That I entered the River of Time over 54 years ago, and –miribile visu – I am still progressing down it.
Pic: Original art by Wang Nong