Grey Day

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A Grey Day...




and no ...
before you think
I am crazy
I am not out hobbling
through the park
in my moonboot
this is one of a few posts
I have in a backlog of walking stories.

When I left this morning
for a walk in the park
it was grey
rain was in the air

and it was a cool 16*C
that's 64*F

COOL
for me

the South Easterly wind
chilled my cheeks
and flapped at the bottoms
of my gym pants

the twining guinea flower
Hibbertia scandens
clinging to the sandy bank
in a climbing pose

the seed pod
biding time

about to open...

and offer red fruit
with an unpleasant odour -
I'll vouch for that...

turkey forages for seeds and berries
in the grey sand
along the track banks

The undersides of the banksia
are a soft fuzzy grey






The lichen splashed rocks...






are shades of grey...

another woolly glycine
a minute flower
smaller than a pea






a dead tree
has turned a
frosty grey






Granite Bay
sounds very grey
and heavy






but
is a grey rocky sweep
where you often hear
the rumble of the rolling rocks






the gum trees
wear their
coats of greys






and the raindrops
paint the stepping stones
in tones of grey

at the headland
the wind blusters
and showers me
with spits of rain

the grey sea
merges with the grey sky,
out on the horizon
a patch of sunlight






But
when I walked
into the park this morning
the orchestra was warming up,


the screeching Rainbow Lorikeets
swirled overhead
looking to alight on flowering tea trees
and the kookaburras exploded in gleeful
raucous laughter...

the knobby nose
called to his mate

in the adjacent tree

and she responded
with her cheerful cry

the birds gave no indication
that it was a grey day

a little girl
in pretty pink
loved to show off
her colourful raincoat

and
all along the way
the ocean at my shoulder
provided the rhythmic beat


the occasional plops of rain
on the forest leaves
offered the percussion...






a pod of wet suit clad surfers
had gathered at Tea Tree
looking like grey seals



and they weren't complaining


and even though the day
appeared so grey
I certainly
harboured no grey feelings

especially when I arrived back home
and looked out over my river
to see the ducks
collected in an unusual huddle
in the now steady rain...

giving credence to that saying:

It's a fine day for ducks.





And it has also been
a fine walking morning for me...


Oh Happy Days




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