oh i do like to...

Somedays I just looooooovvvvvvve where I live. It’s usually the days when I make it down to the beach before 10am, + today is one of those days. Glorious sunshine, lots to see, the sea, a brekky smoothie, + then home with plenty of time to Get Stuff Done. As I walk – down my street to McCabe Park, along North Beach, past the fish market + both lighthouses, onto City Beach + then back via the kiosk for refreshments – my little head feels lighter + lighter. I love that sensation of cares + woes lifting, the ocean doing its work + external observations taking over from needling internal stresses.

Today’s highlights:
--two heeler pups, bursting at the seams with energy (lord, I want a dog)
--an extreme miasma of maltesers, little yappers, ever-multiplying (lord, I do not want a dog like that)
--a pelly being swooped by over-zealous seagulls… + really not giving a shit. Why would you?
--old people exercising: how completely routine + real it is for them to pull on the stripey speedos, grab a faded 70s towel, jump on a clunky old bike + head down to the ocean pool; how they’ve probably been doing the same thing every day for 50 years; the smiles on their well-worn faces; + how beautifully this contrasts with the slicked-down, pulled-back, super-tight, logo-packed aerobicism of the young exercise troupe
--an ancient couple pulling the littlest dinghy I’ve ever seen down to the water
--contrasting again with all the super-serious kayakers, who I love seeing as tiny, shiny spots far out to sea
--three massive steel tankers on the horizon
--the steelworks: I don’t know why but I do have a fondness for that hive of industry
--the view of huge construction cranes from the big lighthouse; dotted through the city; its highest points; dwarfing the row of Norfolk pines

I don’t want to be talking about Serious Stuff… like Depression + Exercise… but sometimes it has to be affirmed that a walk at the beach is medicine for the soul.

This weekend has been a tricky proposition for me, noting two things that can cause conflict:
a) desperately needing some solitary time, and
b) being a bit down.

These factors can combine to create a scary hermitisation affect… disastrous for me + painful for anyone who unwittingly breaks the Cone of Hermit. But I’ve done well over the last 24 hours. I’ve braved the hairdresser's; walked at the beach; nearly finished three new winter skirts; listened to Sharon Jones + the Dap Kings' live set on Triple J; watched a few episodes of the sexist, reductive + very funny English sit com Coupling; caught up on some phonecalls. All in all it’s enough to keep Little Miss Depression in check.

And now, back to a bit of skirt. (Or several bits of skirts.)