The Pearl Earring and the Five Blackbirds.

Walking in this beautiful place, I find myself feeling calm and at peace, away from life's many trials. Some decisions that initially seem quick and straightforward often take years, a lifetime, or even lifetimes to sort out the troubles they caused.

I walked along the shore of Sutton’s Beach to temporarily escape from my complex emotions. The afternoon sun felt gentle on my skin, and my wide-brimmed straw hat, with relaxed cords and toggle, swayed playfully in the breeze as it toyed with my long brown hair. My sarong beats on my hip like soft, fleshy hands on a tight-skinned drum that implored me to the ceremony. The waves soothed and relaxed me as they ebbed and flowed, whoosh, splash, whoosh, splash, whoosh, splash, splash. The sand and pebbles shifted and massaged under my hot feet; they pulled between my toes, drew out the toxins, cooled the blood that circulated through my body, and eased my mind.

A child-shrilled laughter filled the air next to me. A small white dog barked and eagerly bounded into the sea after a bright red ball. The leap sent shots of water my way. Quickly, I turned my back to be a bulwark; my mouth opened as the cold spray startled my mind awake.

The rude surge sent me packing to the shore. A Moreton Bay fig tree stood between the playground and me. It gave me a dark glance; it seemed menacing. I thought, “Why would such a majestic tree give me such bad vibes?” It’s all normal! But the canopy and its shady, large leaves cast shadows on its exposed, bulging, wooden roots, which look like acute varicose veins. A blast of wind revealed a triangular kite elevated and restrained by its entangled string in the tree's crest, like a helpless fly caught in a spider's web.

It was a poignant scene. I felt like the painter Johannes Vermeer captivated by a girl, possibly at a bustling market, adorned with a pearl earring that glistened in the sun. Although my phone was cheap, I shot what I saw at that moment: The kite with its tail of red, pink, yellow and white cotton bows fluttered towards the clear blue summer sky. I did not edit it. It was perfect. I posted it. 274 Likes.

***

Driving in this beautiful place, I find myself feeling calm and at peace, away from life's many trials. Some decisions that initially seem quick and straightforward often take years, a lifetime, or even lifetimes to sort out the troubles they caused.

I drove through the country town of Esk to temporarily escape from my complex emotions. The unpleasant chill-nibble of autumn had dissipated as the morning sun gently caressed my face. I wound down the car window to feel the bath of fresh air. I inhaled the aromatherapy of the honey of Acacia and Jacaranda bloom, which detoxified my blood, eased my mind, and called me to the ceremony.

It was a poignant scene. l felt like the painter Johannes Vermeer captivated by a girl, possibly at a bustling market, adorned with a pearl earring that glistened in the sun. Although my phone was cheap, I shot what I saw at that moment: Middle ground, a rusty Ferris wheel with a handwritten cardboard sign attached, ‘For Sale—$ 200. Apply within’. Foreground, a tilted wooden fence that looked like it partitioned a Digger's trench. Background: a blurred, weathered, old, low-set Queenslander (Australian house) long overdue and needing a fresh coat of paint. Above, the mid-blue sky. I did not edit it. It was perfect. I posted it. 850 Likes.

***

Strolling in this beautiful place, I find myself feeling calm and at peace, away from life's many trials. Some decisions that initially seem quick and straightforward often take years, a lifetime, or even lifetimes to sort out the troubles they caused.

I strolled back home from the local neighbourhood shops, and I temporarily escaped from my complex emotions. The midday sun petitioned on my skin, “Can I warm you? The westerly wind has been harsh this year, but I am gentle. Again, can I warm you?” My striped pink and olive beanie cuddled my head as my wild hair climbed over the shoulders of my jumper.

I felt uncomfortable. The unmowed footpath had dampened my tracksuit pant hems and soaked my socks and shoes. My rucksack sagged, so I adjusted and tightened its handles. I had loaded it unevenly and found relief when I swivelled the carrier. The butternut pumpkin I planned for Sunday night's soup moved from my shoulder blade to my spine; it thudded, probably bruised the aubergine next to it. A car drove past, and whoosh, frigid air arched. 

It was a poignant scene, l felt like the painter Johannes Vermeer captivated by a girl, possibly at a bustling market, adorned with a pearl earring that glistened in the sun. Although my phone was cheap, I shot what I saw at that moment: The opened tarnished gate exposed well-flattened tyre tracks. Nearby, the coarse grass stood like a soldier; it partially secluded a sunken handcrafted clay bust. It was an oddly shaped male head, similar to a Julius Ceasar sketch drawn by a 5-year-old. Wild bluebells and pink pigweed flowers mockingly danced around it. I did not edit it. It was perfect. I posted it. 1583 Likes.

***

As I carry some plants in this beautiful place, I find myself feeling calm and at peace, away from life's many trials. Some decisions that initially seem quick and straightforward often take years, a lifetime, or even lifetimes to sort out the troubles they caused.

I carried the plants from the marketplace to the car park and, in doing so, temporarily escaped from my complex emotions. The spring sun awakened from a deep sleep and peeked through the press-out shapes of stars, diamonds, and rectangles in the cement Bessor blocks. The kaleidoscope of varying light intensity forms projected on me, evoking a deliberate, methodical hypnotism that calls me to ceremony. The car park's cement floor cools my bare feet, and as the blood circulates through my body, it eases my mind.

It was a poignant scene. I felt like the painter Johannes Vermeer captivated by a girl, possibly at a bustling market, adorned with a pearl earring that glistened in the sun. Although my phone was cheap, I captured what I saw at that moment: A middle-aged woman ascended the car park stairs. A swirling wind enveloped her, causing her gold and salmon long silk scarf to wildly unwind and flutter in the air. The floating light playfully danced around her, creating a sense of whimsy and laughter. Her crimson hair cascaded down as her soft grey hat was swept away by the gust. I did not edit it. I posted it. 2085 likes.

***

Resting in this beautiful place, I find myself feeling calm and at peace, away from life's many trials. Some tasks that initially seem quick and straightforward often take years, a lifetime, or even lifetimes to sort out the troubles they caused.

I watch ‘YouTube’ to temporarily escape from my complex emotions. The focused oscillating pedestal fan had blown and dried my sweat, cooled my blood that circulated through my body, eased my mind, and called me to ceremony

It was a poignant scene, l felt like the painter Johannes Vermeer captivated by a girl, possibly at a bustling market, adorned with a pearl earring that glistened in the sun. Although my phone was cheap, I shot what I saw at that moment: My baby girl slumbered in her favourite, faded, and patched PJs on my shabby rose-flowered couch. Her half-dried, blonde ringlets, like a fence, enclosed her face with quietly pressed long eyelashes and closed ruby lips. I did not edit it. It was perfect, but I included a text, “Back Home from Daddy’s place”. I posted it. 5826 Likes.

I'm feeling so tired that I'm sinking deeper into the chair. In this dream, I can vividly picture a talented female artist working meticulously to create charcoal sketches on several butcher papers. The images are filled with bold lines, smudges, and ethereal streaks. The sketches are carefully ordered and fed into an old film projector. As the projector whirs, it unevenly flashes out five striking apparitions landing on the ground.

Five blackbirds chatting and pecking seeds on a roadside.

Time folds.

And he kisses her.