Violinist bats (sculptures in the park), goannas and ducks attract the attention of my children. We all enjoy the reflections of the late afternoon.
The ducks pose. Birds feed on the flowers. Sound of Music classics from the band’s free concert fill the park. ‘Climb Every Mountain’and ‘My favorite things.’We all like different songs from that one.
The garden is so full of green, colour and people. A mother walks past and says, ‘if you just stay calm I’ll give you chocolate when we arrive at the car.’ Friends meet and the Dads tell each other’s children to be excellent to their mother, not just today but everyday. I store the day in photographs, poetry and this blog.
I like days like these as stores for future short stories. Perhaps I will have a mother with curious children trying to make her away around the garden. She learns to be patient and see the world through their eyes again.
Perhaps however the children are impatient, and it’s the mother who wants to stop and look at everything with her brand new digital camera. Perhaps I could write a story about a bat who wanted to join the orchestra and went in search of a violin maker. They are sick and tired of being in photographs, but are happier if they can take photographs just like Mum.
Now, I am seven again, watching the ducks – writing a poem. I am a child with my mother walking under a bridge as she tells me tales of ancestors and bridge spirits who will look out for me.