Our Lady Of The Driftwood

I had a visitation last night. A Nun appeared on the beach. She seemed mildly surprised to have fetched up in my cove, but was otherwise calm and virtually motionless. Although, from her deportment and her apparel I took her to be of a rather absent minded disposition. Maybe she thought the island was uninhabited and had dressed to match.

I went down to the cove to invite her back for some light refreshment and possibly a song round the campfire, but when I got close she'd transformed herself into a pile of driftwood and two old coconut husks. I shall keep this in close sight to upbraid her on her return. Playing such silly games on castaways is really below her vocation

Gods moving in mysterious ways.

When finally I recovered from my nervous prostration following my encounter with the laundrywomen , I ventured out again and I found this. It could be some primordial garden gnome or a mummified midget, but I suspect it may have religious connotations. Furthermore, as most rituals in these regions are fertility based (as if they didn't have enough children!) and it has a rather smug aspect, I suspect it's priapic. If the laundrywomen turn up to engage in rites of that sort, I may be forced to have recourse to the ship's pistol after all, simply in the name of decorum. Whatever it is, it seems to be well fed and in rude health. I only hope I don't remain here long enough to come to rely on it for some intelligent conversation.