It's too easy to overlook the beauty in your own backyard.

February 28th, 2014, 1pm

It was 35°C with no clouds detected. The breeze was gentle.

I came home this mid-morning and something, I can’t remember what, made me unlock the doors that have faced me - that I’ve walked past, sat in front of, looked through - for the near 10 years I have just “found myself” living here.

With one door open, I had to stop, suddenly. The air, the heat, the sounds flooded from outside to in, inside to out. I remembered opening a loch, to let the longboat pass through the canal one English summer. The waters rising, falling and mixing.

I forgot about my conversation over coffee an hour ago, forgot what I was thinking of doing next.

I stared at the shape of a leaf, heard a large fly speed past my right ear, noticed the sound of the fountain, surprisingly loud, the heat on my knees, the slamming of a car door, the breath of a warm breeze, teasingly infrequent.

“Perth doesn’t change.”

You hear that a lot.

But I rarely hear - see, feel - what it is that isn’t changing.

Chris and Christine said thanks.

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Melissa Gunner

Law student distracted by art, paving a long path home to Tokyo. Enjoying one uncertain tile at a time.

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