It was a weekend of moments. An anthology of moments I wish I had the words for.
Driving to the farm. The setting sun slowly turning the air to gold. Getting a headrush from singing out loud. Flashes of bright yellow canola fields in amongst the mid winter green. Taking the long way round, just for the joy of the road. Thinking; what would it be like to make love hidden in those green and yellow fields with acres of unbroken blue above you?)
Fire sculptures on the village green. A row of rapturous little faces turned, open-mouthed, up to the flickering light and then shrieking as the dragon exploded from the paper heart.
The taste of ice cold beer.
Sitting on the floor with my sleepy dog. Scratching her soft ears. Half listening to my dad talk about tractors. A kind of meditation.
Watching a newly hatched chick struggle for life. Knowing it won’t make it. Wondering whether to try and save it. Wondering how big a life needs to be before it’s unquestionably worth saving.
Walking through one of the paddocks. Being followed by my favourite pony. Knowing she’s going to start searching my pockets for the carrots I’ve hidden there. A familiar game. Loving the feel of her velvet nose in my hand. Feeling her nudge me with a gentle weight.
Drinking champagne alone in the night lit garden. Looking up to the sky. Following the arch of the milky way. Automatically searching for the Southern Cross. Watching my breath disappear into the dark.
Seeing my father slip his hand into my stepmother’s, when he thought I wasn’t looking.
Surreptitiously licking the last bits of greek yoghurt and honey from the bowl.
A languid, steaming, fragrant bubble bath and the best part of a good book.
Listening to Albinoni’s Adagio in G Minor.
Hot tea and long, slow kisses that last a whole afternoon.