Fever
You come and go by daylight. You make people out by daylight. But suddenly it’s midnight. There’s no sun, no moon, no lamp. If it’s a place where you’ve been, then of course it’s possible – but if it’s a place you’ve never been, how will you get hold of something? Yunmen O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall … GM Hopkins Equinoctial gales have begun. At the start of the month, a wild westerly stream encompasses the whole island, bringing massive swells to exposed beaches, touching up the wind-shorn manicure of coastal and alpine vegetation, combing twigs and leaves and dead wood from the forests to litter the ground. Despite this, the pigeon is raising another brood on the meagre twig platform in the birches where she brought out young in January. The autumn world goes about its business. Wattlebirds and families of currawongs feast on ripe pears. Flocks of thornbills gather, stopping at the water pots, checking the wintersweet outside my window for insects, lettin