Last Day of Autumn

We walked the through the Botanical Gardens. The lawns beside the wisteria walk were awash with crumpled brown leaves . In the old rose garden, which is now the herb, pepper and odd gourd garden, we saw four girls dressed like Alice, with a movie camera.

A few spots of rain. The Torrens reflected white facets of the sky. Popeye sat empty under a frame and some string. The people in Jolley's Boathouse were eating, at quarter to three.

Beyond the bridge, we passed the fountain and the iron paper boats. At Pinkie Flat a row of nine men stood at the water's edge, and a tenth man made a casting gesture. A pelican floated gently away.

Under the weir bridge, model boats whizzed like gnats.

We climbed the grass embankment to the lift, and took the lift to the patio outside the Convention Centre. We went into Regatta's for a cup of coffee, and sat down in armchairs in front of the tall glass rainspotted windows, looking out on to the deck and a curve of Elder Park with no view of the river, but a compensatory sky.

They brought us each a complimentary glass of water with a black straw. We read parts of The Australian. The waiter brought a plate of complimentary biscuits. The biscuits were flat, round, yellow and sweet, and tasted powerfully of oranges.