September 5th, Okinawa


Down in our new rubber boots to the ino, the lagoon where the fishermen took us splashing through the nocturnal shallows in the autumn of 2013. Closest to the land, broken glass, crockery, ceramic insulators from overhead pylons like fossilised spines, shells, dead coral branches, rusted metal. Cleaner seaward: the sand diagrammed with shallow furrows, patterns of indentation that suggest the marks made by a child’s bike but which I take to be snake trails. Hermit crabs retract their claws into their pitted shells at vibrations from my feet; I try to record their smaller cousins scratching in the shallows.

more recording nonnsense Rain Falls Record Bag Base Grass perimeter fence sea rubbish

To the lagoon again at night, wind clattering the foliage next to the perimeter fence, insects susurrate the grasses and glint in the circle made from the darkness by my torch. The tide has come right in, obscuring daylight’s rubbish, scotching our plans to head to the reef, our hopes that the fishers might be abroad. I record waves submerging rocks but this is the very smallest substitute for what we had hoped. Rain begins to fall, streaking the orange halos of the base security lights. Back deflated to the beautiful apartment wearing a necklace and bracelets of insect bites.


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