I've been getting back into my hours exercise a day, after stopping altogether over the Xmas break. (Oh, yes, well, we can't rush these things, now can you)
I've also been (semi) addicted to Eva Cassidy, just lately. Oh, I don't know why? There is something so pure about her voice, and something so tragic about her story, but really it is the voice. It is like exercising to angels.
The tourists are back, people are thick on the streets again, the cafes are over flowing with the poor souls who, actually, experienced FOMO for real while lockdown was on. Gone are the quiet footpaths with just the locals hanging around. (We got to say hello to each other, as we leisurely made our way through our suburb) I need solitude in my head, as I battle through the crowds, and here I have it, adjusting my headphones, lost in my very own sounds, Eva's mellifluous voice, as I step around the rabble with a polite nod and a fleeting grin, making my way to the park where it is fresh and clear...
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