Booyeembara Park

Memories press in heavy here. In all the streets of Freo as I walked yesterday I felt time and the past pressing down on my lungs, muscling in on my heart. But the odd feeling only lasted a few minutes and then joy flooded through me again, unstoppable.
This place is not similar to any other place.

Uni yesterday was dream-like. Heavy hanging eucalyptus branches and the smell of wet, green grass. I was excited and nervous to be back, and my first lecture is today.

In the evening I walked to the tropicana for the voicebox poetry reading, and read the teapot poem. It was well received but the crowd was very small, and I was on my own, so I left at half time, and from under my favourite tree by the old prison I called B and read him the poem I wrote for him. He is somehow everywhere. And with all the emails we exchange I feel the distance lessen.
I walked by the flame trees behind that disgusting parking lot, and smiled to find that they had no flame flowers, but were green and lush in the almost-full-moonlight.

And this morning...waking to Peter's alarm, to hear Pete and Betty groaning in bed, the I-don't-want-to-get-up noises...and I made them coffee and then went for a run to Booyeembara Park, where the clouds were backlit and eerie and beautiful, and as I got to the top of the hill where the entrance to the park is, it began to rain. A warm summer rain that cooled me down just enough, and I ran slowly alongside ibises, and parrots, and ducks and felt so fucking lucky my soul was overflowing (again).

I'm already feeling healthier and fitter and this can only get better. Today I will find work, and then that takes care of all aspects of my life. Hard to believe I've only been here two days.

Radio national: I treasure it.