Mostly quiet; purring of the engine,
Pierced by one voice.
Headphones, immaculate dark brown hair,
Golden tan, short back and sides, dark grey jersey.
“You got muscle?”
Heads down phones out.
“She played for UNSW”
Seven polygons overlaid in the round below the thumb.
Blue denim shirt, cream chinos and sandy coloured hair.
“Big crowds expected” states the jumping video screen.
Heavy gold links encircle a slim young wrist.
“Almost two years, nice!”
Raindrops on glass,
Wipers have stopped.
Wet umbrella at my feet.
An annoying fly.
“Julie, see you around, my name’s Brad!”
Time to work
I attempted to capture the contrasting hues of the water and the sky in this picture. It was one of those moments when the sun catches the turquoise waters of Rose Bay, Sydney, NSW, Australia; meanwhile malevolent rain clouds gather overhead.
About a third of the way from the left, you can just make out the golden top of Sydney (Centre Point) Tower.
I was on my way home last week, it was raining, the car I was travelling in was waiting for the traffic lights to change. I noticed the colourful melee of posters on this billboard. I like the way the rain drops on the window distorts the colours and image. I didn’t know if I should crop the picture to the left or right side of the pole. In the end I decided life is about negotiating obstacles in our path so I left it in to remind me.
What do you think?
Sunday, 20oC (68oF), a relief to feel cooler air around my bare arms and legs, to hear rain rattling on the tin roof and intermittent bird song. The peace of nature is broken by the sound of a child’s cries, the whoosh of cars and the din of planes climbing into the sky. Thank fully Sydney’s east – west runway is not constantly in use.
Countless vivid green hues have come to life in the garden, a vibrant scene set against a grey stained sky.
Yesterday it was a muggy 29oC (84oF), with no plans for Australia Day we did 35 minutes of cardio followed by a walk up King Street to the hardware store, chatting about how quiet Newtown seemed for a Saturday morning. By the time we took Stan for his walk the sun was breaking through the clouds, increasing the steamy conditions.
A couple of happy hours cooling down in the pool proved the perfect apertif for a barbecue with friends on their balcony, watching the sun go down behind the inner city sprawl. At 9:00 pm we heard the fireworks being let off from Darling Harbour.
For the last month the land in New South Wales has been baked dry by the sun, a record 45oC (113oF) was recorded on 18th January, there has been little rain. The brave people of the Rural Fire Service have again saved homes from raging bush fires. It seems a contradiction to me that we celebrate occasions with fireworks when there are so many near escapes in Australia every year.