Lady by the Pond

I went for a jog today.
A painfully slow 5-6 km jog.
As I jogged, I figured I should somehow try to learn footy too.
So I observed the girls and guys on the field.
Not for long though.
I have after all, wiki-ed the sport before.
Meh.

I brisk walked through the pathway, wanting to get home soon.
For food and my top-up card.
Then I saw a lady by the pond...
feeding the ducks and the rest of the birds
with ... well, I couldn't see what then,
but as I moved closer to her...
I saw that she was feeding it with bread crumbs!

I manoeuvred my way towards her.
Slowly and not so stealthily.
I did not notice that there was a big hole in front of me
and accidentally sprained my ankle a teeny bit.
Armed with my weird feeling ankle, I decided to survey
and walk around the area until she noticed me.
And I roamed around until I made eye contact with her and she smiled!

Yes! I was jumping on the inside!
She wasn't hostile and she didn't seem to indicate that she needed alone time.
So I went closer and she asked: How're ya doing?
And our conversation started.

Her name is Kimberly and she works in Surry Hills in a restaurant called the Nomad.
She's had one of those days and well, needed a run and a break from things.
Her boss's wife is an amazing architect who turned a warehouse into something mind-blowing.
Her boyfriend seems like a sensitive and caring sort of person.
And lots more. I feel as though I'm being extremely intrusive by telling you all of these things so I'm going to stop here.

We talked about how animals are sometimes better than humans.
We fed different varieties of birds.
I especially liked the white fluffy feathered, orange feet ducks.
Then there was this cute little brown fellow with a little orange dot on its forehead that was so daring, it came so close to peck the bread from our hands.
A magpie appeared out of nowhere and took some of her bread too. However, this one wasn't quite as tame as the rest. It looked like a raven that flew into a can of white paint.
There was this other type of bird that had an owl's face. Though it had a tiny body.
Birds. :)

As the sky turned darker, a whole flock of humongous bats flew by.
Quite a lot of them dipped their feet into the pond.
It still is a question mark to me and her as to what they were doing.
Most of them were heading home.
All of a sudden, my friend spotted something in the water.
We stared at the murky water in anticipation that something might jump out.
Nothing did. We saw a really huge fin though. It could have been an eel by the length of it.
I told her about the fruit bats at home and how cute they are.
She told me that her friend had to kill a badly injured bat with her slippers once to shorten its sufferings.
We talked about different sort of cuisines too :)

Eventually, we had to split ways and I ran back home, satisfied with today.

Can I talk to you anyway?

"You know I'm not really here, right?"
"Can I talk to you anyway?"
... Iain Thomas...

This is exactly what passed my mind when I was lost in this city eight months back.

As I sat at the altar, taking shelter from the piercing and far from friendly sun, I stared in irritation at what seemed to be a very gentle looking statue.

I've always loved stained glass. At certain instances, I took a break from the glares I was giving Mother Mary and immersed myself in the amazing gloriousness of coloured light rays shining in. Diffraction of light in different mediums: dust, paint, clay. Dust shimmers never fail to remind me of fairy pathways that lead to Neverland.

Snapping back to concentrate on my feeling of dejection,
I said: "Why are you doing this to me?
I don't really care if you are there or not.
I am going to complain and
you are going to listen."

I vented out my frustration whilst frowning and pouting and making weird faces.

After which, I sat back and looked at Mother Mary in silence.

"What do you want me to do now?" I asked.

And stared some more; for quite some time.

And somehow came to an answer.

Magically enough.

I walked out that day ready to brace impossibilities.