AS a kid I’d spend long car journeys and bedtimes – and then dreams themselves – plotting escape routes. Starting at the family home, or school, I’d map out the windows to jump from (this came in handy later in my teenage years), the neighbouring walls to climb and hedges to hide under, until reaching somewhere I wouldn’t be discovered, for a while at least.
It’s a bit of a stretch of the imagination to bestow Westport Reserve in a little-loved stretch of Port Phillip Bay as my own private Idah-oh, but appealingly, it’s just me and the lapping of the rubbish against the shore. I will plant a flag and rename it.
Keeper: Might keep looking. The ideal hidey-hole would have a cave and secret tunnel.
Undoubtedly the first human foot to set down upon this rock. Sneakers are from New York, btw.
I really like this bush; I'll name it soon.
Civilisation blights the horizon.
Hey man, now you're really living 
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