A man must not deny his manifest abilities, for that is to evade his obligations.

Of late, Henry and I have taken to reviving ourselves by taking in the invigoratingly brisk winter's air on morning strolls on the weekend. The lassitude of a sedentary, indoor life that winter often begets must be resisted, thus we proceed down to the water to observe the comings and goings and wax lyrical about a diversity of topics: man's inhumanity to man; the declining industrial output of Latvia; Lacan's Signification of the Phallus in relation to the town of Ulverstone; and whether Di, Mary or Ian Thorpe truly is the Princess of Hearts.

Most of all though, we look at the birds. Here you can see our good friend Larus pacificus (the Pacific Gull at the back), with six fine Larus novaehollandiae (the Silver Gulls in the foreground). These fellows were spotted on the Geilston Bay Jetty, and were hanging about looking for a bit of fine Tasmanian seafood.