Time Affects Our Vision

     Funny how Time can affect our vision.  Take today, April 14, for example.  The 100th anniversary of the sinking of the unsinkable ship HMS Titanic.  Far from being just another ship going down in an ocean,  this maritime disaster has spawned an industry of its own.  Treasure hunters, movie makers, playwrights, song writers, museums and uncountable romantic tragics  have elevated this incident from a cautionary tale of marine safety into a full blown fairytale.  Beyond fairytale...we were, nay, are there...dressed and setting sail a full century later.

    April 14 marks another big day :  my arrival into Australia in 2008.  Has it really been four years?!  Where does time go?  I arrived in Perth in the middle of the night and when I woke up in the morning I dashed over to the library to get my library card. That day, and each day for several weeks beyond, was filled with discovery and new things for the mind to digest.  But even then I feared it all becoming too commonplace. That is when I started these postcards--before this city and country lost its 'newness'.   Familiarity may or may not breed contempt, but it sure does promote tunnel vision. And recently I became all too aware that I have become as quite myopic as the locals.

   I was returning from a quick errand on our side of downtown.  It was such a nice day that I decided to walk home rather than take a bus.  Taking a shortcut to the bridge would have me avoid playing chicken with cars at a major traffic circle.   It  would also expose  a piece of the city I had never seen before.  From the elevated seating of a bus, this small strip of land looks like a tree-lined bike path next to a municipal parking lot.  From ground level, it is a hidden park complete with an extensive playground set, Aboriginal interpretive center and a bike & kayak rental barn.

    This park is but a half mile from my home.  However did I miss this? I feverishly thought of excuses: tree cover keeps this hidden from commuters, my left knee keeps me from bicycling on the bike paths, it's the "wrong side" of the river, etc.      The truth is that I have put on the same blinders that so many others  wear.  We each follow our same path each day without variance , without seeing what we look at.   A life of routine.
     Routine is a voracious eater of Time.  I shouldn't wonder that four years have elapsed without me noticing.  So I vow that I will get off the same over-trodden path or vary my routine on a regular basis from here on out.   I am looking forward to more discoveries.

Farewell, Trusty Steed

Trusty Steed,  1988-2012

       Farewell, Trusty Steed.  Our faithful companion on many an adventure has gone on to automobile heaven.  Born Toyota Corolla 4WD in 1988,  he ran a career total of 216,531 kilometers/134,249 miles in some of the harshest conditions Australia has to offer with sometimes less than gentle drovers.  

       T.S., as his friends called him, saw plenty of action in the northern part of the state.  The Outback was his friend.  He reveled in taking on the open, gravelly roads and bathing in the ubiquitous fine red dust that defines the Pilbara area.  In complete defiance of the odds-casting coworkers of his drover, he never  broke down or even trembled when out of reach of civilization.  A true Australian outback thoroughbred.

     But T.S. knew how to handle himself in other environments as well.  He captained his way along the Indian Ocean  and shared the road with passing wild kangaroo and emu.  Going camping? Load him up and be on your way.  Heading south to wine country and hills with tall trees?  T.S. matched the majesty and had plenty of space to carry  wine, produce, eggs and other treasures found at roadside stands & thrift stores along the way.

     Alas, a hard long life took its toll.  T.S., after suffering from chronic pains and overheating during the last several months, succumbed to the Grim Knacker on Tuesday.  His drovers, Hilary and Kev, gave him a final cleaning up and pat down (found 65¢ in the process) and bade him farewell.  Also in attendance was TransPerth public transportation-- a regular consoler of T.S.' now wheel-less owners.  In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to your preferred auto mechanic.

     Farewell, Trusty Steed.   You were a good friend.