Underground, it is quiet, cool, still… we hear the hot wind breathing, blowing, gusting outside, but it seems a long way away, as though we are watching from the other side of the world…
Cockatoos… they are everywhere, I know, but still one of my favourite birds. Can’t go past their cheeky attitudes, delicate colours, and that sound! They glide through the air with grace and poise, all the while making a noise like they are tearing a jagged hole right through the sky…
The making of dumplings, as with all good things, involves time, and concentration, and patience. Lucky it was him and not me making them then…
Sometimes it seems ours is a city full of ghosts. We pass by each other without so much as a glance, no sign even of feeling the air stirring around us… There are places to be; people to see – just not the ones standing right there.
We must be getting close to Christmas…. these windows are something of a Melbourne institution, so how could I let the opportunity pass? Seeing the faces of children as they follow the story from window to window is reason enough to pause and appreciate…
The path was dark and winding,
but we found our way.
The hills loomed above us, tall and misshapen,
but we climbed them.
The wind through the trees whispered silvery warnings,
but we did not listen.
We watched for ogres that would mean to stop us,
but there were none.
Because we were together.