As I left my 9-5 job at the Sea Life Sanctuary on the beach, I made my twenty minute walk up hill, back to my rented apartment. The first thing that hit me as I stepped outside was usually the humidity, but sometimes it was a battering storm. Rain or shine, I’d smile as I walked past the beach with children playing, and cockatoo’s scavenging, and start the ascent.
I’d walk as fast as I could up the steepest part of my commute,
past the house called Wimbledon which everyday, without fail reminded me of going to watch the Tennis Championships, and there waiting above me as the road levelled out were a mix of tropical birds on the power lines. Having the chance to see what Aussies class as garden birds but what I class as tropical looking down at me every day always brought a smile to my face – no matter how noisy the cockatoos were.
On the last half of my journey I’d walk under the beautiful spring blossom and admire the purple and pink petals under my feet. There was even an unfortunate possum hanging dead on a power line, somehow fried stuck to it. I was amazed to see this sight the first day after his demise, then every day until he finally fell down after a big storm, I looked up at him as I walked past and wished him well.
As I reached my apartment, I’d hear my neighbour practising his drums from the loft of their house, where he’d have the window open trying to cool down from the Summer heat. Each time I heard him I contemplated asking for lessons, but instead I just enjoyed the melodies.
Even though my journey home was now over and I was inside, this blissful evening wasn’t ever over yet. Manly was the first time I’d had a shower to get cool instead of warm, and I relished in that fact. I much prefer to be showering to cool down in a hot room, than what we’re used to in the UK – having a boiling hot shower, trying to get warm, only to freeze as soon as we stop the water and reach for the towel.
If I didn’t feel the need for a shower, I’d pour myself a sparkling water and lime and sit out on the balcony overlooking the neighbourhood with Manly beach in the distance, and read, or watch any wildlife that might pass me by, like the possums that ate the flowers on one of our trees, or the fruit bats that migrated to the city to feed every sunset.
These memories are vivid in my mind, and I turn to them regularly for a sense of calm and reminder that I’ve had these happy experiences. It may not be good to dwell on the past, but when they help you look to the future they make you smile.