Field Notes #6
Opposite the bus-stop.
My daughter tells me to get to the bus-stop ten minutes early. The bus-stop is less than a minute walk from our house. If the bus arrives early it never waits. If you’re early, the bus will be late. Ahhh…c’est la vie.
Ten minutes.
I wait for the bus, thankfully in the shade as this is the first really warm day we’ve had this year at 27C.
I look up and see a bald eagle circling. I know it’s a bald eagle because I can see the white feathers of its head and I’m pretty sure I can see its large yellow beak too. It circles above me (I’m certain it’s deciding whether I’m worth the hassle) getting higher and higher and further away. It’s amazing we’re high enough up the mountain to see these majestic birds of prey.
Five minutes.
Coming down the road from my left, there’s a man I’ve seen before riding a laid back bike, a recumbent trike, I learn later. I turn away looking at a bank of bright white puffy clouds sitting behind the mountain top.
Three minutes.
When I wear my sunglasses I can’t see the screen of my camera. I remember it’s the polarising lenses. I take off my sunglasses but then it’s hard to read the text on my phone. I can’t be bothered to get out my reading glasses. I put my phone away and practice my distance vision in the hope that I can give my eyes a rest from all the close-up work I do; writing, photoshop, reading, more writing.
The bus arrives. Two minutes late.
Photograph by Tanya Clarke 2024
