Barking

Energy is seeping back like a slowly turning tide. What a relief. I have not been able to look at/see the world for weeks, far less engage with it. It's heartening to discover that it's still there after all this time. I don't know why this move has been such a marathon, but it has. Today I even took my camera outside.

I managed to get a few things done, buses ran on time. All was flow and mild, damp weather. I was born in this town, lived here till I escaped to university at eighteen. It's a small place, every inch of it steeped in memory and meaning. I saw a few more people I recognised today; some recognised me, some didn't. It's the first time I've been here alone since my father died nearly six years ago. It's very sweet to know that there are no members of my extended family living here any more. Much, much simpler. Like meeting the place on a fresh footing, reclaiming a direct connection to my geographical roots.

I'm still savouring this feeling of relative anonymity. It won't last. The bush telegraph here is something else. When I was a student my parents would know I was back before I'd even walked the ten minutes from the ferry. Someone always sees you, and spreads the word. I'm wryly remembering all the transgressions I got away with. Wondering if I really did or if blind eyes were turned.