Saturday, December 12, 2009
View from the Hospital window - 13/12/09
The slight cool breeze that I feel is coming from the internal air conditioning, for as I gaze longingly out at freedom there is not a movement in the leaves of the bank of gum trees that line the boundary of the park next door. The sky is a painters whitewash grey that has then been splattered with darker greys that have run into each other before drying. No sign of the sun as my room is on the afternoon side of the building. The gum trees were home for a moment to a single kookaburra whose laugh split the silence of the air for such a brief passage of time. Looking past the gum trees, the large flat light green oval played home to two cricket teams yesterday, and watching them play was a pleasant distraction. Butting the right boundary of the park is a bowls club , which so much reminded me of scenes from 'Crackerjack', as I watched coat hanger bent participants stumble up and down the greens at a pace that at the fastest was leisurely. Small pencil tipped lights mark the boundary of a nearby road, along which current traffic movement is sparse. Two white haired ladies, arm in arm have just walked past the window. Before they moved out of sight they did look in my direction with almost a wishful look spread across their faces as though in here was something that they could well do with. At the opposite end of the park sits a primary school whose grounds yearn once more for the pounding of happy little feet. It is a still morning.