Boxing beetles and fighting foxes

Date: 4/3/2019

Little “boxing rings” Of fake beetles. Some are wearing football shirts and playing a game of soccer. Some groups of them fight each time I tap on the “ropes” at the side. They are pretty impressive. I am in England. I am with my nan, Christine. I know it will be the last time I see her in her life and I am dismayed I didn’t take more pictures of Faversham, the town where she lived. There is not even three hours til I have to get back to the airport - and suddenly I realise there are all these things I wanted to do. For example, there is a path up a grassy hill. It’s a heritage path. I have to pay to access it. There’s not really time, but I want to ascend the high bluffs. So I do. In another scene, I am standing on the couch in my room, trying to get stuff down from the high cupboard. I’m searching for something from my childhood but I don’t know what it is. I find a few pairs of sunglasses and a few masks, and select the one that has a holographic projection from the eyes when I tilt my head down. Down the garden, the pond is full of toads. They are huge (large as cats) - floating in the murky water like logs - and when I get close, they spit at me, but I can’t stop reaching out to touch them. At one point I find myself physically fighting a Fennek fox that is trying to get into the house. It is biting and scratching me but I boot it outside. I feel bad because it limps away from the altercation bleeding. I felt I could have been more gentle.