Coronavirus Lockdown Day Three – I name the parrot and dream of Black Madonna
It is now some
three days since our ship ran onto that reef and I have become more accepting
of the new situation. Later in the week I intend to visit the wreck in the hope
of finding both victuals and perhaps a few more tools with which to secure my continuing
survival.
In short, I am feeling more positive - if such a thing is possible. And I feel much more hopeful regarding
a return to some form of normality. That is, if such a thing is indeed
possible given the quite extraordinary events of the past few days.
The footprint in the sand continues to trouble me but I have, yet again,
concluded that further investigation will have to wait at least until the back-end
of the week.
The
hallucinations, which I thought had ended on day two, continue big-time and alongside shades of the Virgin Mary I am now seeing images of other long dead saints including the mysterious Black Madonna. I obviously am quiet fevered and imagine that this may be the cause of this insanity.
Soaked in sweat, I awoke in the night with a vivid memory of being in a green valley alongside old and dead friends – most of whom were intent on basket-weaving, the making of candles from animal fats and the harvesting of tinned-Dole-pineapples on some distant big Hawaiian island. A lurid set of nightmares probably, but one can never be completely sure if truth be told. If the fever subsides, all should become much clearer later in the week.
Soaked in sweat, I awoke in the night with a vivid memory of being in a green valley alongside old and dead friends – most of whom were intent on basket-weaving, the making of candles from animal fats and the harvesting of tinned-Dole-pineapples on some distant big Hawaiian island. A lurid set of nightmares probably, but one can never be completely sure if truth be told. If the fever subsides, all should become much clearer later in the week.
As an
aside, the feral goat has wandered off which leads me to think that I should have shot
and butchered the hairy thing at first sight. But, no matter, there are plenty more
where that came from.
Parrot-wise,
I have decided to name the colourful bird in memory of my great aunt Gertude whose
middle name was Polly.
That lone footprint in the sand still troubles me somewhat though since there are, at least as far as I can tell, no resident amputees here. Perhaps later in the week all will become much clearer.
I live in hope. And that’s surely a good thing. And, tomorrow is of course yet another day.
That lone footprint in the sand still troubles me somewhat though since there are, at least as far as I can tell, no resident amputees here. Perhaps later in the week all will become much clearer.
I live in hope. And that’s surely a good thing. And, tomorrow is of course yet another day.
Duncan
Harley is a writer and blogger living in the Garioch. His books are available
from Amazon. Just search for Duncan Harley in the Amazon search box. Signed
copies are available @ Inverurie Whisky Shop and from most National Trust for
Scotland gift shops.
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