Last light ferry run.

So much is changing. The builders are in at John's house pulling down walls and the garden is being transformed. Our neighbour wants to knock his house down and replace it with two glass and brick trophy homes. And PL has finally got a mobility scooter after hobbling on what could sometimes be a three hour round trip from his house to the paper shop. And, of course, we are leaving.

They must be getting sick of the sight of me at the dump. I have had to grit my teeth to let go of some things - bits of that wrecked yacht I pulled over miles of foreshore when we first got here. Some would say I am still holding on to too much.

But I have held tight to the latticed teak decking piece I found at Boat Cove below Zennor during my Cornwall days. I always thought it had probably come from the wreck of the Maria Asumpta  at Padstow in 1995.

When I found it it was completely waterlogged. I just managed to drag it up the very steep, rough and overgrown path from Boat Cove. Then I hid it in the prolific bracken to give it a chance to dry out. Weeks later I went to collect it. It was still pretty heavy and it's a long walk from Boat Cove back to anywhere with vehicular access.

It's an awkward bloody shape and I have never found a satisfactory use for it. But it has played a number of unsatisfactory roles in my wanderings and we have somehow grown attached.

How quickly the nights have drawn in and more to come next week.