I was sitting here when I looked outside and the whole sky was pink and orange and wonderful. What's that rhyme? Pink at night, sailors delight, pink in the morning sailors take warning? I always get them confused. Like beer before liquor you're in the clear, liquor before beer, never been sicker. I went out to the dock and watched the sky for awhile. The clouds were moving really fast. Then I went to the path in the middle of the island and walked around for a bit. Everything was wet. There were lots of slugs. I turned to go back down our path, but had a hard time finding the canoe paddle marker because the trees had grown so much. I haven't been here enough lately.

I went down to the dock again. Going back down the path I thought about how I always think about other people while I am here. I am always longing for someone or something. Sometimes it's not even a tangible person as much as it is the idea of one. That's almost better I think. There's something so lonely about being on an island. Back on the dock the clouds had shifted and dimmed. A few minutes later my dad and brother came back from fishing.