The Lesson

Pliny the Elder, who seems to think he can read anything of mine without asking, has been looking through some of my old diaries for seascapes.

Look at this one, he says excitedly. "Sunday, January 22nd 2006. By the time we realised it was cooling down enough to go for a walk, at about quarter to five, a horrid pall of smoke had enveloped all of Glenelg, and as we later found out, the whole of Adelaide. It was smoke that had blown over from Kangaroo Island where 3 fires were burning."

What memories this brings back!

What memories? I ask.

Of my volcano, he replies. But let me read on.

"Pat and I sat on a seat looking at the smoke-enshrouded sea, whence appeared pallid ghostly marine craft, with and without sails. Pockets of people stood waist deep in the water."

Oh! says Pliny, I can see it all !

"A young man with a smooth brown back cast a line in. What did he think he would catch, we wondered. An older man on a bicycle rode past and patted his saddle in what could have been construed as a lascivious manner, but did not stop."

Oh, that's the end. Pliny looks disappointed. What happened after that? Did the rescue ships arrive in time? And what has the man on the bicycle got to do with it?

Nothing, it rained the next day and the fires went out. They didn't need to send rescue ships. The old man just happened to be passing. But I wrote down what he did to teach him a lesson.

How might that work? No one will read your diary. Well, that is, I ............