Friday, 7 June 2013

I was having a bad day this week.


Teens. Need I say more?
I got in my car and drove… I kept driving, listening to my favourite music in the car until I hit the sand. I live in Sydney and it’s not that far to the beach from my place.
And then I got out, walked for a little while and then I sat. This is what I saw.


I sat on a park bench marked ‘love is eternal’; a gift from a couple that I thanked for providing it. Wherever Jan and Don are, I hope their love is eternal. It’s June and it’s cold in Australia. There are few footsteps across the sand towards the water. The rip is obvious, where the water curls back onto itself, but there is one hardy surfer out there. South of the rip in his thick winter wetsuit.
The onshore breeze brings the smell of the sea and a fine dusting of sand across my feet. Thankfully warmly shod in my runners. I have never been much of a one for the surf. I can’t swim well enough and it is too big, too powerful, and too unpredictable for me, but the air is bracing and it reminds me what it is to live in this city where ten minutes ago I drove through the bush; a national park to get here. The northern suburbs cling to the coast where the cliffs and the land prices get high.
Love is eternal.
The bench is buffeted by the wind and the sand but it is solid and strong and has been repainted recently by someone who cares. The sun peeks through the clouds and the surfer catches a wave. He turns to paddle out and do it again, and it is like a metaphor for my days. Some you hit just right and so well that they carry you far and you feel elated. Some you have to keep paddling to try and stay on the wave or, you paddle like crazy and you miss it all together, and once one thing goes wrong, everything does.
But you should try again…
I think I can go home, now.