Shorncliffe

I woke up early yesterday and decided to go for a walk. The morning was bright and heavy with heat, cloudy but not overcast. I left my ipod silent in my pocket, preferring to listen to the buzz and chirp (sometimes screech) of the birds and bugs that filled each bush and tree. Down the road half a block was the bay; a wide expanse of flat water with a marina to the right and clear skies to the left. A beautiful brick walkway lined the entire waterfront, curving around the corner to my left, where the soft mud of the riverbank met with sandy beach. I chose this way to walk, keeping my eyes searching for interesting things to photograph - of course I had my camera with me. A pier jutted out from the walkway, where several people stood lazily fishing, not necessarily to catch anything, but just for the sheer relaxation and pleasure of bobbing their rods. Just after this pier, the walkway melted into natural paths; one was a trampled grass path leading along the cliffs, the other was the sandy beach. I hopped down onto the beach and sank my feet into the sand, eyes peeled for shells. It was an incredibly peaceful walk that led me 5km along the waterfront, past parks and grassy fields, outdoor bbq areas and waterfront housing. The walkway re-started a km later and was filled with cyclists, runners, and other people like myself, just out for a morning stroll.
Now, when I say peaceful, I mean that rather loosely to resemble the larger percentage of my walk. During my beach amble, I admit that I was not only looking for shells. Every rock, dark crevice, blade of grass, leaf of tree... everything, was examined for spiders and other insects. Every noise had me alert, each brush of hair or vegetation against my skin had me leaping for fear that I had met with some deadly critter. I am truly a pathetic individual. Ironically, it was not an insect that eventually attacked me; it was a bird. A magpie, to be exact. I was halfway through my walk, just going through a public playground/park, scrolling through the ringtones on my new phone when something swooshed over my head, stirring my hair in its proximity. Naturally, I ducked and gave a yelp, causing my fellow walkers to give me rather strange stares. I looked wildly around, but couldn't see anything that might have just caused me such a fright, so I continued walking. Three steps later, it swooped again. This time, I saw a flash of black and white and followed it until it landed on a light post beside me. I stopped and stared at this pile of plumage for a while, assessing its speed and deadly beak while trying to figure out what I had done to bother it so that I could oblige it by stopping. I continued walking, warily this time, glancing over my shoulder to see if I was to be left alone. Not so. It swooped a third time, causing me to fling my arms over my head and duck again. I'm sure this was by now a source of great amusement to everyone around me. I did not know how to handle the situation and was becoming increasingly flustered. Finally, I turned to some passerbys and asked for their assistance. They suggested I put my sunglasses on my head, to make it look like I was watching it all the time. I did so and walked on, backwards this time, keeping my eyes glued on my taloned adversary. Putting a bathroom between it and myself, I turned around and walked swiftly away, glancing over my shoulder regularly to ensure I had lost it for good. I felt like a fool for being so shaken by a bird, but the experience of the moment was truly frightening and I felt helpless against my winged attacker.
I returned home at 10:30, showered, ate, and sat down at my computer to begin my job search. Not knowing whether I'd be in Brisbane or Cairns, I applied for jobs in each location (but secretly hoped for success in tropical, beachy, lush Cairns). At around 12:00, Mio and I hopped in the car and drove along the waterfront, through Shorncliffe and nearby Sandgate, exclaiming over the shabby million-dollar houses to our left and the sunny million-dollar view to our right. For lunch, we stopped at a fish'n'chips restaurant and ordered a colossal vegetarian burger for Mio and a mixed seafood platter for myself. As soon as mine arrived, I knew I had made a mistake. Everything was deep fried, and not much of it looked familiar. I picked up an orange-coloured bite-sized piece and popped it in my mouth. My stomach revolted, my tongue shrank away; the fishy taste was overwhelming and the slimy, mushy texture did nothing to improve the impression. With difficulty, I swallowed and quickly washed the taste away with chips and water. Now I was wary of the plate. I picked up something familiar, a piece of cod, and ate that. Good. Ok, not everything is bad. Now for the long, sausage-like thing. Crab. Also good. But kind of revolting in that it's deep-fried, sausage-shaped crab. Then there were scallops, calamari rings, more cod, and a couple prawns. Lots of salty chips, and a whole lot of water. There was also another orange thing, but I didn't touch that. I did slice it open to look inside though. It resembled a sponge, if sponges can be pureed and stuck back together with brown liquid oozing out of its pores. Disguised in tempura batter, it looked harmless on the outside, but the inside revealed its true alien nature and my stomach turned at the sight of it, knowing it had one inside. I felt rather sick for the rest of the day, but I'm sure it was just mental.
Mio had to work at 4:30, so I computed for a while, then went with her into town (5 minutes away). I picked up a movie at Mio's workplace, then walked back home as dusk slowly seeped into the daytime, bringing tropical Lorikeets out for dinnertime. I stopped to photograph a pair that had flown into a low-down branch, then continued home to make supper and watch my movie.
I had chosen Shutter Island, fully aware that I would be home alone and frightened to death of this psychological thriller. I figured I would be brave and get through it. I was wrong. I couldn't get past the introductory page - the one where you press play. The music started playing and scenes of the movie flashed on the screen as shadows played on the walls and the window and doorway behind me felt ominously full of hidden beings. True to the wimp that I am, I turned on the tv and began watching Australian sitcoms instead.
When Mio returned home at 9, we watched the movie together and agreed that it was definitely too scary to watch alone. We ate the leftover curry from the night before and huddled in our blankets as the music thumped and crescendoed.
The movie ended at 11:30 and I washed up and went to bed. Luckily, I was able to fall asleep without any nightmares or ghosts.
Hope you're getting some sun up there, I'd hate to hog it all : )
xoxo - Katrina