I walked later in the day - after midday and it felt strange. I left later yesterday morning.The light was in already. A sooky, snuggly, purring cat kept me in bed. As good a reason as any to stay in bed. Besides, I don't get cat cuddles very often and I will take it when I can. Dressing, wiping a slather of deodorant under my arms, grabbing my wallet, keys and phone, I put on my mask, the other essential required in Melbourne and made my way out to the street.
It's amazing what you notice when you pay attention.
One of the criteria for a good walk is the number of dogs who come and say hello to you. I talk to most dogs I pass, but the masks seem to confuse them. Today I met Ted. He was in the pet store with his dads. Ted was some sort of doodle-dog. Black, fluffy and the apple of his dads' eyes. He came up for a pat. I've found that masks mean that dogs don't look for your smile as much.
99% of people wear mask now. Kids don't. Runners don't. Cyclists don't. Grumpy looking men in their thirties with a fuck you look on their face don't - but the rest of the people you see in the street have on masks - or at least something covering their face. I was pleased to see Erdin, one of the trainers at the gym, a known anti-vaxxer with loud views on most things health, with a bandana over his face. It's better than nothing.
I still marvel at the river. At the moment it's still, the wattle trees reflecting in the still water. It brings a sense of peace.
Nearing the end of the walk, my mask feels a bit mucky. I've found the disposable ones are better for exercise. You throw them out when you get home. They're lighter on the face and my glasses don't fog as badly when I perch them over the mask. The material ones fog the glasses more.
Who knew that mask would be a fashion accessory.
And so I got home, after an hour out of the house. Happy that I can still walk. Happy that most people are doing the right thing.
I'll be able to smile (with my whole face) at the dogs when they pass by in the future. Just not now.
Today's song:
It's amazing what you notice when you pay attention.
One of the criteria for a good walk is the number of dogs who come and say hello to you. I talk to most dogs I pass, but the masks seem to confuse them. Today I met Ted. He was in the pet store with his dads. Ted was some sort of doodle-dog. Black, fluffy and the apple of his dads' eyes. He came up for a pat. I've found that masks mean that dogs don't look for your smile as much.
99% of people wear mask now. Kids don't. Runners don't. Cyclists don't. Grumpy looking men in their thirties with a fuck you look on their face don't - but the rest of the people you see in the street have on masks - or at least something covering their face. I was pleased to see Erdin, one of the trainers at the gym, a known anti-vaxxer with loud views on most things health, with a bandana over his face. It's better than nothing.
I still marvel at the river. At the moment it's still, the wattle trees reflecting in the still water. It brings a sense of peace.
Nearing the end of the walk, my mask feels a bit mucky. I've found the disposable ones are better for exercise. You throw them out when you get home. They're lighter on the face and my glasses don't fog as badly when I perch them over the mask. The material ones fog the glasses more.
Who knew that mask would be a fashion accessory.
And so I got home, after an hour out of the house. Happy that I can still walk. Happy that most people are doing the right thing.
I'll be able to smile (with my whole face) at the dogs when they pass by in the future. Just not now.
Today's song:
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