Its chilly tonight. Darkening. I am watching the Nun’s Story and thinking of all the years that some strange discipline of mine has interested me in that kind of religious life. Not enough to take me to it – but nonetheless calling me to something. It was partially that turmoil that made me so vulnerable to full blown addiction. A tympanic clash within my Soul. Its still there. Takes me repeatedly to austerity and self denunciation and torments me. It also brings me to peace and a glowing inner joy at times.  I am 66 years old now. Guess it will likely always be that way.

I kind of like the dimensions of ageing that indicate the highly probable paths I will follow.

They seem to be clearing along the Fairy Path which has now been concreted. Lush and sub tropical plants will grow here if they are given a chance and the yuppie Landcare People aren’t allowed near them with their brutal ugliness and inaccurate, theoretical practices. At least 4 good sized trees have fallen down since the Path was built. I wonder how and why.

We were talking outside yesterday, after the machines had stopped for the weekend. Phil was talking about the Footprint which is always left. The street is now wide and compacted in dirt. Potentially, it might work for us when they re-turf and seal but it nonetheless leaves a Footprint. And this one is a very heavy one. A Giant’s bootslam which has already taken the Old Man Roo and disturbed many of us. Seems to me like the fairies have all been startled as well. Spirits have been woken up.

Tonight – I simply sit.