Sunday morning: a bike path in Brunswick, where it runs between the creek and a market garden: on the fence between the path and the garden sits a young man, probably early 20s. He has long blond hair in dreadlocks and is wearing a jacket that from a distance looks like a worker’s safety jacket; up close you can see that it’s actually jagged orange and yellow stripes on a white linen suit jacket. His orange bike has been dropped right across the path. He’s staring out across the vegetable plots, talking and pointing. He’s alone, and not talking on the phone.

Saturday; from the kew boulevarde, looking across the park to the city. 3 or 4 balloons landing, so they appear in front of the city skyline, bulbous and colourful in conrast with the grey glass towers. one has already landed and just its top half can be seen, white silk jellyfishing up from between the green trees.

Sunday morning at the Merri Creek: a woman squats at the steep edge of the creek, hauling a big wet brown Labrador out of the water by its front legs. I stop to watch in case she falls in too. The dog finally struggles up the muddy bank and bounds off, delighted. She follows, not delighted.