unbustling

The bay is very, very still tonight.


So very still that you can see the reflection of the underside of Anzac Bridge in it.

Should have really grabbed the decent camera, but it was quite brisk out there!

Winter nights like this are so lovely, if only I had a fire pit or one of those cafe-style gas heaters, I’d be out amongst it with a glass of wine and my knitting.

All this quasi-suburban calm reminds me why I shudder at the thought of going back to Potts Point or Lizzie Bay to live. I think this is what could be referred to as embracing middle age.

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