Forgotten Glasses


Thursday 5 March, 2009

The forgotten glasses are always there. What would they have seen?

I can only speculate what their wearer might have observed prior to the unfortunate day they were lost, about a year ago now. Since the glasses ended up on the tarmac, however, they’ve been looking up at the wheels of hundreds of thousands of vehicles rolling by, they’ve witnessed peak-hour gridlocks and car crashes, been shaken by petrol heads and drag races under late night streetlights; they’ve peered up the skirts of crossing pedestrians, mingled with the rats and other rodents of the night, and most days while laying unassumingly on a little patch of road they’ve been privy to the comedy of the intersection’s famed resident window washer. For four seasons at the busy intersection the glasses have watched the busy world go by.

What a funny and sometimes scary way to view the world, I thought. Those forgotten glasses bobbed grimly at the confluence of two fast flowing black rivers. They‘d become attuned to the rhythm and predictability of a year of todays and tomorrows. Despite their struggle to swim against the tide there was a sense of duty, honesty and calmness about what they were doing.

The forgotten glasses were becoming my friend – my own little piece of free reality telling a day-by-day story. There’s suspense: “Will they still be there?” There’s intrigue: “What turn of events might have occurred to cause a change in their appearance?” And there’s a developing plot: “What will they look like this morning?” Some days I’d even find myself saying “hello” to the glasses. I’d become so captivated with their unfolding fate, the other day I pointed them out to a friend as we passed by. I wonder if anyone else’s been privately watching this story unfold too.

The glasses were well beyond repair now – one of the arms had detached itself and was nowhere to be seen and the frames’ overall form was buckled and squashed. The look of sadness on the glasses had given way to a look of resignation and tiredness. I wasn’t giving up though – I was trying to be strong for the glasses in the face of such trying times.

About Blair Paterson

Blair grew up and lives in Sydney’s Inner West. He first realised a love of nature and the outdoors during weekends and holidays with his family on the Hawkesbury River. From humble childhood pastimes building billycarts and tree houses to spending large chunks of time in the bush, Blair now embarks on outdoor pursuits whenever and however possible – by foot, kayak, bicycle or other. He has worked in Environmental Management and currently Outdoor Education. Some of his fondest travels to date have been around Australia and through the Indian Himalayas.
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