Unfolding days

I have been quiet on the blog the past week. While it's my aim to write something every few days, it has been a busy week past.

One very very long day on Tuesday travelling from Warburton to Perth. We arrived at the airstrip at 11am to discover that the fuel pump was broken. Rosalie commented that whenever it seems like all is going to plan, something (small but significant) goes awry and the day is thrown. A commentary on life in general in remote communities. That day, it was the fuel pump. Eventually, two planes were refuelled by makeshift means and on their separate ways.

As luck would have it, we arrived in Kalgoorlie just in time to check in for our flight to Perth. All seemed good. We'd made our connecting flight... or so it seemed. The brakes on our connecting plane had failed on landing. Men swirled like ants around the wheels. Eventually, a new plane was brought in and we boarded. It was 11pm when a reasonably bright and perky Eleanor arrived in the hotel room ready for bed.

As always happens when transposed from life remote to life in the city, the differences are stark. Maybe it's fashion this season, but why this sea of grey and black? As fashionable as the cut may be, the colours are dull, despondent, trapped. Is that what people are feeling, in this concrete place, or are these my thoughts transferred? My eyes are drawn to any tiny burst of colour. I'm conscious of the muted tones of my own city clothing. I'm determined to wear bright pink tomorrow.

The pace is frenetic. No space for the unfolding of the day. Measured from breakfast, morning shop hours, lunch, the return of activity, school bell, dinner and then evening calm. Perhaps a church service or community event. The pool closes. A few kids out and about, making their fun. Here, step out any time and activity surges forward. Undaunted by the changing seasons of the day, unaffected by the passing hours, the city continues to move and hum. Dragging you along in its unceasing pace. Urging you to consume, aspire, envy.

Every place has its pace. This is not mine. I enjoy the unfolding days, the ebb and flow of daily life at its essence, the unhurried energy of time spent present. Guided by shared community markers of the day's passing. Unbidden by the need to achieve, produce, present, impress. Just me... and you. Here and now.