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Spotted today on the steps of Flinders Street Station, under the clocks:

I love the view from my bedroom window on a sunny morning, whilst I sit and work at my little white iBook at my (messy) white desk. A house sits on corner, the once-white paint peeling off its wooden walls, the new upstairs extension a ridiculous pink with orange window frames. (I hope the pink is an undercoat.) It is surrounded by a low wooden fence that is gradually falling over, though it seems as if the only reason why it hasn't already done so is because it hasn't decided which direction it prefers.
No cars roaring down the road, just the occasional dog taking its owner out for a walk. Nothing moves, apart from a few leaves shifting ever so slightly so that they get a little more of the sun, and the shadows that are stealthily creeping across the lawn.
Posted by sniffles at 12:07 PM | Comments (2)