But to the eyes of the man of imagination, Nature is Imagination itself.

There is nothing finer than a paddle in a kayak on a brisk Autumn's morning! Here is a pair that I regularly see on the Derwent that seem to travel up from Taroona all the way to Cornelian Bay and back. That's a fair trip, and will get the shoulders aching.

I've written a poem on the bus the other morning, and it rhymes. This is a rare thing for me, so consider yourself blessed.

Abourist
If I were a tree
a tree I'd be
a finer tree
you could never see

if I were a tree
I'd never flee
you'd not see me
run away from thee