Friday Morning …early…

The room is in gloom, bathed in aqueous light. Brighter light appears through the chinks of the shutters. Squinting from under heavy eyelids, I strain too read the time. … 4.30 am gleams back in digital green.  Great ! I’ve the luxury of thirty minutes dozing time, before the alarm summons me to complete wakefulness.

Suddenly movement from the end of the bed. Oh no! Beau is awake. Keeping my eyes firmly shut, I pretend sleep. Eye contact would prove fatal to further slumbers. I feel him coming closer and then his warm breath is on my face. A breath redolent of last nights dinner, lamb chops and Smackos.

Not entirely pleasant. My nose twitches in protest. It’s enough to alert him to my wakefulness and a wet, warm tongue flicks across my face.

Pretense abandoned, I open my eyes. A small black face with big brown eyes stare back at me. ” Hello Beau. “His tail wags in response. Our day has begun. Thirty minutes earlier than I would have liked. But that’s a consequence of summer. Dawn comes early.

It’s a beautiful morning, a cool sharp breeze and the sun, though bright, lacks heat. That will come later. The jacarandas have done with their gaudy display. It’s now the Poinciana’s’ turn to impress with scarlet blossoms. In New Farm Park the soccer green, wet with dew, sparkles as if covered with diamonds.

Four young men are playing football at the far end of the green, their bodies in silhouette against the brightness of the rising sun.

I hear them calling to one another. Their voices cut through the dawn chorus of birdsong. The sun is now behind me as I turn to look back at the players. Muscular torsos glisten with sweat and damp hair clings to perspiring foreheads.

Young fellows in their prime and it is only then I notice the truly shocking!

Not only are torsos free from the restraints of clothing but so are marble-like buttocks. It would be immodest of me to comment further on their nudity. Suffice to say, even with a chilly breeze in evidence, the gods have been generous in their bestowing of other accoutrements.

And as I command Beau to avert his eyes, I can’t help thinking of the old adage, “The early bird catches the worm”, has taken on rather more significance this beautiful Summer’s morn.

An hour later I find the village agog with the news of nude footballers in the Park. In a relatively short space of time the number of players had grown alarmingly from four to forty. “Forty ? Are you sure?”

“Yes, forty “, a breathless young woman assures me. “Although I didn’t see them myself. My girlfriend rang me. She could see them from her apartment.”

Such thrilling news is not for keeping too oneself, but is best shared. I see her move quickly,  lickity-split from the newsagent to the greengrocer and from there into Coles.

And as I take my morning coffee I wonder where it will all end. I saw four nude young men in the park, the young woman’s friend saw forty  and no doubt by the end of such vigorous recounting of the scandalous and titillating news, the young woman will have the number exceeding four hundred, perhaps even four thousand!

Friday morning…. a week later..

The general observation was, “There seems a vast number of people exercising in New Farm park at 4.45 am this morning”.

I wonder why?



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