Tuesday, 10 October 2017

the thaw

Canning St this afternoon was more or less coated in people, flopping about on the median strip's spring grass like fur seals on Chinaman's Hat, exposing all their pasty limbs to the sunlight. They were all flopping about individually however so I did not bother stopping to disturb their solitudes by cracking out the somewhat rusty moves in the Diane Arbus / Joan Didion department. A necessary exception was made for this little one, solemnly holding a private tea party on the grass, in her purple fairy dress and red sneakers. Her dad was supervising from the footpath and he gave me permission to take the picture. 

Obvs Canning St is going all out to melt my miserable hard frozen heart. Bring it on you bicycle superhighway, I am ready.

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