My recorded version:
Meandering Musings Audio:
What this fairly grounded human does in her spare time…
Flight attendant voice impressions!
I’d been thinking of doing this, so have a go I did! An incredible amount of fun it was taking this during lunch.
I’d decided a break out of the breakroom was needed. Enthused, I’d hopped across to Kings Park and, as you do, put to use that awfully amazing piece of technology: the mobile selfie cam.
(As an aside, two things. First, I appreciate that hogging the lookout for a good minute or two, I may have looked like a complete tourist (my ancestry perhaps not being overly helpful in this regard). Well, that, or, like, you know, like, totes self-absorbed. Or both. I’m ambivalent as to doing anything, really, that would disprove of either possibility, though suggestions savouring of subtlety, I’m all ears.
Second, I appreciate that I committed a massive crime by shooting in portrait mode. Yes, I know, terrible; but no regrets, my list of trivial regrets is regrettably packed to the rafters. For instance, I live regretting every pack of McVities Chocolate Digestives I go through, which is a great many and which has made for a continuing battle. Enough to make attendance at McVities Anonymous, if it were a thing, worthwhile. Could there be more of us? Nonetheless, I simply have run out of space on the list.)
With the air as fresh as it was, each inhalation crisping the insides of one’s schnozzle, the sun peeking out from hardly-pregnant clouds, the birds singing sweet songs of freedom, the classic words of Darryl Kerrigan echoed in my mind.
How’s the serenity. Indeed, how was the serenity!
So much serenity.
I still can’t think of a better way to describe it.
The remarkable levels of serenity were conducive to deep thoughts. Shallow thoughts.
All kinds of thoughts… ‘Did I leave the oven on? Surely not? I didn’t, did I? Oh lordy. I’ll go with hoping the house is still there.’ Dammit disruptive thoughts, symptoms of self-doubt. Good thing you’re treatable. Taken in moderation, Cadbury’s I’ve found has rather dramatic, uplifting effects.
I took a seat on a bench that needed company, taking in the marvellous surrounds – and also the meat pie I’d bought which by this stage had suffered a huge drop in temperature and was on the brink of needing an emergency re-microwaving.
The setting today, a photo couldn’t have done justice.
Maybe it was my imagination running wild: a side effect, caused by sudden exposure to unfettered natural light and the unusual duration of sustained bipedal locamotion, commonly known as taking a break away from the desk. I digress.
Going out on a limb, I would say that there was a certain aura in the air.
Something I could feel and see, touch, smell and taste.
It was the profoundness of the City meeting the bush in a vivid depiction of harmony in modern Australia. The melding of lifestyles, the ways of the new and the old, the traditional and the contemporary. The riptides of a balancing act to preserve freedoms and determine how best common goals and ideals can be achieved. The displays of mateship through adversity, unity through diversity. The enjoyment of the Park, and its pristine, organic quality, delivered in spades through native flora, expansive greenery, and its unmatched view of the City.
It was the now-faintly pleasant aroma of perfume that had made it beyond the travesty it had been hours ago when I’d left for work, clothes bearing the aftermath of unintentional overspritzing.
It was the chewy bits of cartilage in my beef pie that I’d convinced myself must have been part of some creative cheffy initiative to accentuate pie texture.
Sensory overload drew forth feelings and musings of hope, reflection, renewal…
‘Sometimes, when the world seems dark, rays of sunshine manage, little by little, to make their way through.
Reminders of a better world. A world that could be. A world with the kind of happiness we all dream about.
That, maybe, just maybe, there’s something more to life than how and what we’ve lived to date.’
An annoying buzzing noise interrupted what could’ve been the first lines of my maiden self-proclaimed, self-help book bestseller.
A fly? No, unfortunately not.
Just my phone alarm. Twenty minutes was up. Time for my return.
Ah QANTAS, I’d do this for free, anyday.
I guess, in the ittiest-bittiest way possible I very-maybe-just-kinda do, already.
Make that: I’d do this anyday. 😉