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Bringing the bags in – it seems like more than before but this is due to the provisions needed when necessities are kilometres away – I stop and lookout the picture window – the type the I like big but with small panes along the bottom that open. The ones that I would stick my feet out over the North Atlantic in January. The ones that let in the smells of the cape and the sea.

I know how I would place the chairs – the chesterfield would be moved closer to the window. Would have a table to the side but nothing to block the view.

I see Martin and Gabrielle’s, Russ’s, Ted’s, Sharon’s, up the hill, The Mulley’s, Carl Noseworthy’s. Elke’s.

Wonder what Main Road will be like at night, watching the machines snake in and out of view between the buildings.

I watch the mauze obscure the cape pieces at a time and again realise that here I don’t take the weather for granted.

Duckish, small salad eaten, I leave for town, the other stays.