Dry wind.

It's been a weird start to summer here. Today is hot, bright and dry- the quintessential Australian summer day, complete with flapping clothes on the line that feel crisp after an hour, crows and currawongs hopping on the roads, salty hair after a swim, eyes that can barely take in the undiluted blue of the sky and have to adjust every time you walk back inside. This would not be weird except that two days ago I was wearing socks and a beanie to bed and had to make hot tea to warm my insides (although this could say more about the fact that I am almost always feeling cold than it does about the weather).

A Currawong I drew today while sitting in the sun in the backyard. Doing this was a 10 on the life enjoyment scale.

 The nice thing about this erratic weather, that thinks it's summer one day and winter the next, is that the "summer" days feel kind of heightened when they do roll around: each swim is celebrated and felt fully, every warm, salty breeze is noticed and loved by tingly skin, and I literally can't help but close my eyes when eating a delicious mango on the steps in the sun. It's as though because it could turn grey any moment you can't help but really appreciate the warm days.

Which got me thinking. Sometimes things can become so familiar, so routine and expected that they seem to lose something..or rather, they don't actually lose anything but we just lose the ability to see their beauty anymore. It can happen with people, places, even the way we see our own life. It's incredibly easy to take things for granted. Especially on those days when you're caught up in thoughts, removed from reality and unable to see or appreciate anything or anyone around you. Despite all this, it's so wonderful when something kind of pierces through that fog, even if it is just to remind you for a second that there is a lot to be loved about simply sitting on the grass, watching birds, drawing aimlessly or cutting up a mango and enjoying it in the sun.