Day 2: Mandurah

There was something in the air today.
Vulnerability? The moon? Something.
We haven’t had this many tears in a long while:
The first was a mother in white with two boys.
Then a woman in a grey dress.
Then special man who brought us to this festival.
A writer who announced she would be 81.
And a mother who was struggling with a daughter more interested in her phone.
She decided to leave her daughter outside. (Good decision)
And her daughter looked in puzzlement as to why her mum was crying when she came out.
Because, she said. Just because.

A lady with a spanish accent came and could have stayed forever.
Her son, with a wry smile, enjoyed it too.
A red haired volunteer for the festival shooed away her friends so she could have her moment.
And one brave girl, later, did the same to her bunch of friends who loitered around.

We watched a duck chase some fish in a circle under water.
Ah, the magic of nature. Those ducks can swim fast.

A twenty something boy looked calm and smiling as he closed his eyes and listened.
Some bare-footed visitors.
Two cautious but sufficiently curious girls.
And a returnee with her brood. Him with a t-shirt of Saturn.

Maybe it was Saturn. Not the moon.
Or just, one of those days.
With lots of moments.

xx aMoment

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