There are times, when I’m walking along certain streets of Sydney, that I can almost believe that I’m in a small country town. There would be an absence of constant traffic and I would pass by a garden with pink flowers flowing out onto the street. The only sound would be the soft, soothing rustling of the leaves. Those are the times when I would imagine myself riding my bicycle and giving a little “toot” of the horn and a big smile when I passed by a familiar face; the basket attached to my bicycle would hold a freshly baked sourdough loaf, a bunch of daisies and a bottle of wine for dinner that night.

Soon enough, a car wakes me from my walking reverie and then another car passes by. Snippets of adult conversation waft towards me from the café I pass by- “Did you hear…?” “No!” “I’d like to offer you this job” “I’m pregnant”. I notice the rubbish lying by the side of the road and as I wait to cross the intersection, not one vehicle gives way to me to walk across to my house.

As my walk back from the library ends, I realise that I did have a very lovely time indeed walking the streets of Sydney in a tie-at-the shoulder white flowy blouse, a pair of worn-in jeans, a blue bucket hat and a red straw bag. My walk had consisted of happy thoughts like baking and toile de jouy fabric and I had even found some organic chai and honey yoghurt at the store. Really, a good time.

But as I enter my house, all I want to do is for someone to embrace me and tell me that it’s all going to be ok. It’s a yucky feeling that settles into my bones and makes itself comfortable. Later on in the afternoon, i find myself swimming laps in the ocean bath, an activity that would usually leave me feeling strong and invincible. Instead, after 30 laps, i get out and make my way home, tired. In the kitchen, i watch the autumn light come gently into the kitchen. I sit in a ray of sunshine and sip some tea, grateful for that at least.

This entry was posted on Friday, March 13th, 2009 at 7:24 pm and is filed under dreams, thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.