The rains have finally come south, and it is pouring down. The river looks like a Chinese ink painting and the one lonely parrot fronting up for breakfast pretty bedraggled. I've cancelled the second delivery of Turf Special and all other outdoor activities. Time for reading and reflecting.
Every time it rains like this I think back to my years in New Guinea. Life seemed so much simpler then. I had nothing then and yet so much: health, youth, and plenty of time ahead. And lots of hope and dreams for the future. Now even the future has been and gone, and what's left is this short moment to enjoy before that's gone as well.
Time to make myself that cup of ginger-and-lemon tea and to cook my porridge, two reassuring routines to start the day, even when it rains.
