Sweet sweat

I'm standing on a 3rd floor balcony overlooking the traffic on Parramatta Road with the Sydney skyline etched in the mid distance, when, right in front of my face, a huge maple leaf dances by on an air current. It eddies and swirls, twirls, lifts and drops and eventually settles on a balcony two doors away from me. Suddenly the air space above the street is filled with drifting, dancing leaves. They come singly and by twos and threes, nature's ballet, three floors above the noise and fumes of man's invention.
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An old woman, proud of her last shreds of fierce independence, little vision or hearing left, every step a slow agony, waits fearfully for the day when she must admit defeat and accept the ignominy of allowing others to provide for her most intimate needs. Every day survived to lay at last on her bed and sleep, for a few hours free from pain and confusion, is a hard won and hollow victory.
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A tiny fireball of energy, small, hard, tough, fast and inexhaustible throws his arms around me and says 'cuddle' as he head-butts my glasses from my face; while his sister, his antithesis, soft, tiny and delicate crawls quietly into my bed at night to snuggle down and sleep without moving till morning and the big sister, the responsible one, the carer and nurturer waits her turn to gain the attention she too wants but is too shy to demand.
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Labels: Holidays