Autumns

April might have been the cruelest month for TS Eliot, but I love autumn,  after the sub-tropical El Nino summers we get now.
Autumn, I salute you and your leaves turning red and gold.

Indian Summer

Juan

Harry

Matty

Honolua

Noosa Dreamings Pt1

Zombie -like at dawn, I grapple with the realisation that I am not made for late midnights.

Yet, the beautifully crafted film The Book Thief on free-to-air was worth it.

Dreamed of surfing with somebody famous, maybe Mick Fanning, but he agreed the waves were too dumpy. Then I caught beauty and finished beside Aunty Norma (RIP) and her daughter J. Woke up at 945am, a new record of sorts.

More Electric Kool Aid