When I was in Perth a month ago, I went to Kings Park one morning. Despite having lived in Perth for about a decade when I was younger, I don’t think I’ve been to Kings Park more than a handful of times. Seems odd now that I think about it. Besides being a beautiful place, it also boasts some stunning views of Perth. It’s one of those places that fills me with that Good to be Alive! feeling. I think a lot of that is related to the trees. The ones you see above, on Fraser Avenue, stand tall and majestic, having been planted in 1929. (Yes, I am a nerd who reads plaques. I also like to wait until the credits have finished rolling before I depart a cinema.)
I walked past the woman sitting in the shade (bottom left corner of the photo) a couple of times. Was it the headscarf over the bald head, her thinness, or her frail demeanour as she balanced somewhat precariously on her stationary walking frame, that gave her away? Further along was the white hospital van, with the driver/attendant waiting patiently.
I couldn’t help but think back to this time last year.
Yes, it’s almost a year since the cancer claimed my dad.