Thursday Feb. 1st 2024
I have my computer on the table on the balcony of our Sydney 'digs.'
We are five floors up, and the view is stunning. Directly below is a huge circular expanse of grass--the cricket pitch: or, as it is called, 'The Reg Bartley Oval.' About half of the Oval is in my view. On the right it is bordered by trees, some of which are the huge (yes, huge) Moreton Bay Fig trees.
Straight ahead is a slice of the harbor, with boat traffic to and fro: ferries, white sails, motor boats leaving wakes of white. Across the water is the North Shore, covered with trees, and I can see the naval memorial at Bradley Point--yesterday we walked on a long, long trail above the water that took us around that point. Far in the distance is a tall tower of apartments in Manly, where there is a huge beach on the Pacific side--on sunny weekends a writhing mass of naked human flesh, cooking on the beach, or crowding in the breaking waves...and, of course, the surfers.
Sometimes this stretch of water is completely blocked off by a huge cruise ship making its way in to Circular Quay--in the very centre of Sydney, with the towering bridge on one side and the famous Opera House on the other.
Over to my right, hidden by a grove of trees is Rushcutters Park, a broad expanse of grass where dog owners by the dozen exercise their animals. Down below our apartment a path comes in from the Park and meets the circular path that goes round The Oval. Straight in front of me, I see the water about fifty yards beyond the perimeter of The Oval.
These paths provide a constant stream of humanity--cyclists, runners, dog-walkers, food delivery scooters, the old and the young--now a woman with four dogs--professional dog-walker, perhaps.
Over the trees, a bit to the right are the masts of the dozens of huge yachts moored in the Marina, and further away, towering on the skyline, are six tall apartment buildings--each of them about sixteen stories tall. And the panorama of trees, apartment buildings, and elegant houses continues around to my right until it is cut off by the other wing of our apartment building.
The balcony is in broad sunlight during the morning, but is in welcome shade from early in the afternoon.
It is 4.00pm now, and the paths below are not busy--one dog-walker, one electric bike rider, and one runner. But as we move into the evening the traffic will become much more intense.
And in the evening we will get the birds--flocks of screeching cockatoos in the nearby trees, dozens of flying foxes (not birds, I know) wending their way to the west, colorful rainbow lorikeets that flit from balcony to balcony. Swallows and martins sweeping at speed through the air.