In which lane do you swim, Dear Reader, in the Pool of Life? If you find yourself in the General Bewilderment Lane, I bid you hearty greetings, for that is where Your Correspondent is to be found these days. What is going on? Why even is it? How did we get into this handcart hurtling toward the proverbial? Etc., etc. Although, truth be told, in the pool in which I have been swimming lately, it is much more optimistically called the Free Play lane. Safely out of the way of those more determined, and where a bit of aquatic physio can be done between the laps, for the recovering hip is still a work in progress. Rather like the Soul, too, for it the season of Lent for thems who swing that way. Which I also have been, lately. Swinging, that is.
Behold some of this morning's scenery:
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| Laps under the watchful eye of the Navy |
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| View back into Woolloomooloo Bay |
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| Walking home past these tidy runabouts |
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| Training tall ship the Young Endeavour |
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| Missed the bus so had to tackle the 112 stairs |
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| This Piscean may be a new hatched 60 but it's still a piece of cake! |
Image credits: 1: Judy Horacek; Rest: Flying With Hands
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