There’s a lake in the
middle of the island that I haven’t seen. This cannot stay like that. No wind,
the windmills on the hill stand idly. Surprisingly many mountains from the
mainland are visible through haze. The lake is nested in the middle of the
hills. A small island seems to be in its middle but on closer inspection it’s
just plants in water. I collect a pocketful of cartridges. Many more are left.
Should have brought a garbage bag. So we have to come back tomorrow. On our way
to the hotel straight over the grass we collect a record amount of birds above
our heads.
Red jackets are filling
the souvenir shop. They don’t fit in very well. We still manage to get our everyday
waffles with jam and whipped cream.
The puffins have left.
They always leave all at once overnight, explains the souvenir shop woman. They
arrive like that as well. Unlike the terns who come and go in waves. Terns are
the birds who make the longest trips, catching more sunshine than any other animal.
The grocery shop opens
and we get some burger buns from last year. Well, what could have happened to
them in deep fridge anyway. There’s some cheese left in the hotel fridge from
previous occupants that we’ve decided to save from being thrown away.
The ship leaves and
takes the redjackets with it. What a destructive hobby.
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