A Sunday Morning View

---

Standing on the balcony, I look left down the street.  The sun falls on my face; the sky is a perfect blue, all part of this city’s trademark look and feel.  Trees line most of the street, moving ever so slightly in an almost imperceptible breeze.  This balcony is a sun trap but at street level it will be an autumn morning, with a slight chill in the air.

There is a sound of some activity outside the pub opposite.  I instinctively turn to my right to look, but a tree covers my view of that part of the street.  It’s too early for the pub to be open; it must be passers by stopping to chat on the corner.  The sounds get a little louder and a family group walk into view, adults carrying coffees and children doing their best to ride scooters along the footpath. [Click link below to read more....]                                                     

The buildings on this side of the street are mainly businesses, the other side a curious collection of old terrace houses, each now renovated or converted in its own individual way.  A group of cyclists whizz past in the bus lane, narrowly missing a dishevelled looking older man who has walked into the road without looking.  He disappears into the side road opposite, passing just behind the coffee drinking family group.  The children turn for a moment and watch until the man walks out of view.

A few cars move down the street at a casual Sunday morning pace.  Even on the busiest days, the sunshine and trees somehow distract from the reality of six lanes of traffic.  A number 373 bus stops across the road; its passengers a mix of early morning tourists and the last of the Oxford Street party crowd.  A motorbike roars past, momentarily shattering the peace. 

Nestled among the buildings in the distance, against the backdrop of the clear blue sky, is my tiny glimpse of the harbour bridge; the giveaway that this is not just any urban landscape - this is Sydney, my chosen home.

I want to share this view, show you a snapshot of this morning.  I pick up my phone, activate the camera, focus, steady, click.  The scene is captured but the feeling is lost – I barely recognise the two dimensional street on the screen.  I try again, if anything the result is a little worse; the angle not so good, the image a little fuzzy. 

I put my phone away and pick up my notebook.  If I can’t take a picture for you, maybe I can write you a picture instead.

Image credit: http://www.123rf.com/profile_glush2502