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there is something to be said about personal space.

and silence.

and sleep.

and there is nothing more unsettling and disruptive than when you can’t find any of those things.

i was so stressed and upset and tired on saturday from only having had half an hour’s sleep the night before due to brother and brother’s girlfriend (yuck and aaarrrrgggg). still awake at 5.30am, i drove to flemington and went to the flower markets, which was probably a good thing as i got three bunches of roses and two bunches of dahlias for $9 and they’re still looking gorgeous (long lasting therapy, in other words). but when brother and brother’s girlfriend continued to take up space and make noise and shower together and blah blah, i felt the only place for me was far away from them. the blue mountains was about as far as i could go that day. đŸ™‚

and it was just perfect. exactly what i needed. a very strong coffee and a very sweet chocolate brownie at leura, at the end of the day when all the tourists were long gone. an amble around echo point with my mother. we walked to the viewing platform that usually shows a vast drop over the megalong valley, past the three sisters and rolling greenness as far as the eye can see. an amazing transformation – a beautifully soft blanket of grey. you couldn’t see anything but thick shreds of mist moving quickly across the mountains. it felt like standing on the edge of the world, with that strange muffled silence that mist brings, and the cool dampness of it on my face. we walked around the edge of the cliffs and went into the gardens at lilianfels. it is a beautiful, rambling place, full of flowers and greenery and lushness. from certain parts of it you can’t see any buildings other than the original house, all wooden gables and wraparound verandah and leadwork glass panels in the doors. you can’t hear anything other than the occasional passing car and the comforting sounds of a garden. we sat on a wooden bench for a long while, listening to the birds settling down for the evening, breathing in the cooling air, breathing in the calm quietness.

then a woman walked past, clamouring on her mobile phone, “yar, yar, we’re leaving lilianfels now, will you meet us there? yar. yar. okay, yar.” and we held our breath until she got into her car and drove away.

but by then it was getting late and we had to go home.

i wish i could have put that garden in my pocket so i could take it out and wrap myself in it whenever i needed to escape.