1. I feel as if I am flying. Far belwo the rocks on the sea bed fall away into the ultramarine gloom. Flying around me are tiny silver fish, fat black fish and once, a pipefish -- all bones and beak.
2. Sitting on the front deck of the boat and letting the wind and sun dry me.
3. Dish of food keep appearing -- long pancake rolls full of feta and fresh herbs; a salad of fat white raddish slices dressed with lemon flesh and juice; green leaves and tomatoes; chicken thighs spiced and cooked without the bone; crisp-skinned fish with sweet white flesh; and pickled runner beans. Later come dishes of ice piled with water melon, apricots, oranges, bananas and tart green plums.
4. Bobbing at anchor, we spot a forlorn group of walkers wilting on the beach. A tall ship comes in, makes fast and sends a dinghy over to collect them.
5. With sketchbook in hand I am free to observe the colours in the sea without interruption.
6. All holiday, worries about money have been digging cold fingers into my mind. I pick up a message suggesting that there might be some editing work on my return.
In my absence: Generous crafter Meggiecat shares information.
Drift, cutting fruit and clear floor.
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