When we left camp before sunrise, heading on a beeline for the most northerly gully, I drove eagerly, with the kind of shining hope that early morning starts can generate. But eight hours later, when we struck back toward camp across the open plain, I found myself sagging in the driver’s seat.

After the scrumptious dinner, which I had never before eaten so much, came to an end, it was customary for the parents to hand out red packages or ang pow to the children and unmarried adults.

I always somehow associate Chatterton with autumn.

the dye worked its way through