I’m sitting under a tree in an inner city park away from the main street. Paradoxically I can hear both planes and over my iPod birds as well.
I’ve lived in this part of Sydney for the lion’s share of my adult life. Yes, I’ve lived other places as well. Indeed there are places I prefer. However, it seems this area has some kind of gravitational push/pull thing going for me. Especially at times like this, in my life. When healing needs doing.
Part of my problem with living here so much is that I don’t “wander” well. I guess in part because I’ve seen it all before. Partly too because I have this thing about time. I’m not a fan of being late. So needless to say getting trapped behind fat miandering lovebirds wandering down the middle of a narrow footpath – oblivious to anyone around who might need to be somewhere other than behind their good zigzagging selves.
In my case too I recognise that I am a fairly bulky presence on the footpath. Unlike other – better behaved souls- I can’t crab walk my way past oncoming pedestrians and by and large breathing in makes no difference to my width. I have always been aware and have carried a goodly dose of guilt when trying to find a convienant place to park out of all flows of traffic. Sometimes not possible, but the intent is good.
To be continued
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