Legends from our own lunchtimes

Monday, July 04, 2011


We were only explaining for the two zillionth time the other day, that yes we do have things that bite in Australia, and no we do not need to be particularly brave to live where we live even though there are barely sufficient children who survive all the perils which present themselves to us in our vast untamed continent, to keep the place running while the likes of ourselves are occupied elsewhere, brave snake/spider/shark/crocodile evading soles that we are.

In the process of doing so I remarked quite truthfully that I had seen more snakes in France in the past three years than I have in the past half century at home.

It was barely surprising then, as I was peering into the stillness of the morning while sipping on my "wake up" coffee, to see a snake swimming among the lily pads.

In the early chill I recalled an acquaintance once telling me that he didn't enjoy a party he attended with a "gangster" theme, because it reminded him too much of work, and I must confess as I stared vacantly into the reflections that I may well have inadvertently made associations between the creature as it swam and a client or two from a former life, but that thought passed as the snake made its way up the opposite bank and the water and my thoughts returned to their perfect stillness once again.

Eventually the faintest zephyr of a breeze arose and erased all the reflections of the morning, and we bravely summoned the energy for the four kilometres that was to be our journey for the day.


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