Not What It Seems To Be

She felt like one of the spiked pollen balls being blown away from a tree by a divergent gush of breeze. She likened herself trapped in a translucent ball of white furry fluff, helplessly and reluctantly removed from the people she loves. Subject to the whimsical vagaries of the wind, she did not even know where she was heading next.

Below this figurative ball, she could still hear the laughter, chatter and varying din caused by collective and separate conversations. More importantly, as she was reluctantly being whisked away, as if in some cinematic glazed photographic effect, she could still see the facial expressions of a particular person who had surprised - and mystified - her that evening.

She loved this dashing chap, but with no prospect of a return to her of the care she consciously and sub-consciously projected for him, she had decided that "to truly love someone is to let him go free". It was perhaps some convoluted thinking on her part, but this very subject of much love had on this occasion accompanied a serious lover of his own. She desperately - and instinctively - wanted to be nice to this new someone, who now takes care of her object of her affection. Her object of unconditional love did enthusiastically greet her, despite the crowdedness of the small hall. At first, she did not even realise that the stranger sitting a few seats away from her is the new love of her continuing love. She was not introduced to this person, when others were, throughout the progress of the function, but she was anyway, for most of the night, oblivious to the variety of developing social scenarios playing out at the party.

After dinner was over, and when it was time for the guests to move on, she was finally introduced to the new person in the life of her loved one. She tried to make small talk with this new person, but she sensed an increasing steely look of indifference - and ultimately clear signs of no intention of being even superficially friendly - from this potential acquaintance. How ironic, how strange, she thought, that she was left almost talking to herself, with no response afforded her in return. Did she wear a confronting perfume, or was this new person unfriendly with the other party goers too? Honestly, she did not know what to do for more than a few frantic minutes.

In life, she wanted to avoid the average and allow more love to come in to her realm. She was already having difficulty trying to connect in this simple social scenario. Was it her fault, did she do anything to deserve this cold treatment? Things happen for a reason - but she was just first trying to figure out the reason itself. In the warm night air, it dawned on her that, as her little pollen ball rose even further away from all these things, everyone else, including the subject of her affection, had been so nice. It finally put her frame of mind in perspective; more so, her little pollen ball was carrying her to a new realm of life's possibilities.

Swaying In The Silent Wind

It is very quiet on campus today. Mainly Asian students lingering around and they do summer semester sharpening their English language requirements, before getting into their undergraduate courses proper.

There is no food sold on campus, so I have to go out for lunch. Even the ducks seem to be away on holiday, they are no where on their favourite ponds.

Instead of city traffic and sounds, I hear bird song. It is that kind of day when leaves high up on a tall tree sway in the silent wind.

It’s a great day for the surf. I bumped into Paul Mason, a KPMG staff member cum UOW student, and he hinted that it was a great day to be at the beach at Wombarra, instead of us being on this hillside park that we call our work place for today. I also see Josh and another Kev, and they are working hard fixing hardware around campus.

I went home at lunch hour and noticed that the canna lilies, that Danielle and Shane Campbell gave me from their home garden, are sprouting blooms for the first time – a royal yellow at that. The hibiscus plant nearby also provides another yellow flower, with perhaps a deeper hue. The lawn grass is growing too well again in this current weather, a perfect mix of moderate sunny days and night showers.

It can be a lazy week, with New Year’s Eve on a Monday night, followed by a chill out New Year’s Day. This morning I was awakened by the soft swoosh of my neighbour watering his garden – yes, it’s the allowed day in New South Wales for using the hose, provided it is before 10am and after 4pm. The nearby dams are also filling up at a good pace, from 30 percent a year ago to 60 percent today.

Tonight, I better cook. I cleared up my food from the fridge before NYE. I also look forward to the therapy of watering the plants outdoors this evening before a late sunset.

One Summer's Day

Insects, insects....as we travel along the freeway, numerous members of the insect kingdom hurl themselves on to the front of the all-wheel drive, splattering their bits and limbs on the bonnet, the grill and the windscreen mirror. We as humans head in one direction in speeds faster than we can physically manage ourselves, and we meet against these flying creatures also moving in a hurry through the air - except that they are in the opposite direction, and they collide not with us, but with our metal, glass and plastic structures that we protect ourselves in.

Insects also come out in colony groups in this warm season - whether they be scrambling on our ceilings, walls and shelves, or weaving sticky webs that are as strong as Velcro - as we humans congregate into shopping centres for the sales or in front of strangers' houses to admire their Christmas lights. If one were an insect, then one could have an overview of the endless line of vehicles along the major highways of the nation - if one kept high enough and did not fly into such a vehicle first. South of Wollongong is the gloriously beautiful and relatively inexpensive South Coast of New South Wales - and escapees from the Big Smoke lined up patiently in the sun to get to their cabins by the ocean.

And then there are the double demerit points for licenses of drivers over the festive season, stretching over two weeks. No such penalties are imposed for Melbourne Cup Day, or sports game finals, but come long weekends with a public holiday thrown in, main arteries are monitored with the dread of losing one's driving license and a couple of hundreds of dollars in fines.

Maybe this is all necessary. The interesting mixture of alcohol, seafood, fruits and a laid back atmosphere should induce one to a cosy nap in bed. However, many have to drive long distances, to catch up with in-laws, loved ones or just fulfil the need for a sheer physical escape - and this means jumping into the car, ute or motor bike. Along the way, groups settle for fast food, with all its additives and hyperactive potential.

Instead of snow storms, stranded passengers at airports and scurrying neighbours all decked up in extra clothes, an Australian Christmas offers long days of watching cricket; sunshades, board shorts and singlets; surf, barbies and stubbies; carolling under tropical-like sunsets; reunion gatherings with really non-Christmassy fare; and practically days of forgetting about our other existence. Maybe the hordes of insects are also rushing for the same things as us, activated by the humidity and heat, but at least they are not vulnerable to double demerit points.

As for me, once I had found a quite moment, I had settled down to an anime session of "Howl's Moving Castle' on the telly. I was munching cherries, grapes, plums, nectarines and R2E2 mangoes - hey sunset was late in the evening. That to me defined the meaning of being "switched off" - after a perfect summer's day with friends.