Day 59 | Bilung Pool again: Water, silence, well of a kind when you shut out the continual parrot racket
rest day 2
The wind has dropped and swung around to the north.
Even in the shade it gets up to 30°C, 86°F, not bad for a mid-winter afternoon.
I crossed the 26°S parallel on Friday, according to a prominent roadside sign, ie, slowly inching northwards.
I keep the fly on the tent, not quite believing, despite absence of evidence, there isn’t going to be a brief shower at any moment. But I sleep with the fly pulled open both sides, needing the breeze.
There isn’t a cloud in the night sky either, the stars show their full magnificence. That’s the Southern Cross, obviously, Orion is high, and is that Scorpio, I can never see a crab up there.
A thinly leaved, scraggly, acacia has a shadow in the moonlight like a quarter finished jigsaw puzzle where the usual rules haven’t been followed: started in the centre.
Solitude at last.