Running blindly without purpose or direction I suddenly found myself stumbling through the Bush, dry sticks cracking underfoot as the scent eucalyptus flooded my senses.
A tall white gum emerged vibrant between the straggly stringy barks, the midday sun illuminating it as if it were a gift presented from the Gods themselves.
I wrapped my arms around it’s smooth bark and closed my eyes, lost in the essence of pure life I dropped to the ground below and fell into what can only be described as a spiritual coma as time stopped for awhile.
I emerged to discover the world had become a vision of itself in black and white.
Life was abundant and glistening yet entirely void of colour, still deep within my now visibly trembling soul, the madness persisted.
As though immersed within a 1960s television set, I had become part of the fabric binding the very essence of existence, billions of atoms flowing and weaving themselves into a monochrome projection of reality.
Two ginormous black ants navigated their way along a fallen tree branch their bright yellow feelers a stark yet singular contrast to the black and white world surrounding them; Jumping Jack Ants, I rarely see them, fascinating, harmless and beautiful in their current surrounding and yet their venom is potentially deadly to my second born son.
I suppose everything has two faces.
A vibration startles me into the moment, a random bar of phone service allows a voicemail notification message to come through the invisible airwaves and into my consciousness, a reminder of the foreign and distant world of humanity.
I trundle slowly back towards the house, back to accepted reality as colour slowly begins to seep back in, leaving my world somewhat old timely and sepia toned. I check my message. It is the school asking me to pop in and sign an updated plan for my second borns anaphylaxis to Jumping Jack Ants. 🐜
Laughing out loud at yet another universal coincidence, exhaustion suddenly washes over me like a tidal wave and I collapse onto the bed and sleep for two hours straight, waking up to a freshly painted world, just in time to pick the children up from the bus.