The carnival is over

It's a bright, warm, silent Sunday morning. I opened the blinds of my bedroom earlier and the sun washed in. I lay in bed reading the newspaper and drinking my coffee. It felt so still, so peaceful, that I read only cursorily before casting the paper aside. It was not that I was restless - just the opposite - but that I simply wanted to savour what was for the moment and would, if I could manage it, have halted time for a little while, or at least slowed it down. As it was I had an hour or so of grace.

The last couple of weeks feel unsettled looking back. The flow that comes from following normal routines has been largely absent. In the place of that has been unusual events that one must react to deal with, like a blind man following a familiar route discovering suddenly that in his way are obstacles that were not there before.

These 'obstacles' are hardly obstacles in the real sense, and in fact have been quite fun more often than not. It has been a little interlude in the normal way of things, something many Melburnians would have experienced in a similar way to me.

In large part it is the Spring Carnival that has done this; that and the bright, unusually warm weather for this time of year.

In the first place the Spring Carnival is such a celebrated time on the calendar that it is much more than a number of storied horse races and the excuse to party. There is a festive flavour to life in Melbourne over this period, even for those who have no interest in the racing. For the rest of us there is a certain romance in following the fortunes of trainers and jockeys, and favourite race horses. Almost everyone, including the biggest duffer, has an opinion suddenly, and a vested, but light hearted interest in how the romance unfolds.

At the same time there is a loosening of normal bonds that tie us to the familiar patterns I spoke of earlier. In part it is disrupted by the mere pattern of days - we have a holiday midweek after all, to watch and celebrate a horse race. People glam up to visit the track or else they stay home to watch with a betting ticket in one hand and a drink in the other. A kind of festive and intoxicating spirit permeates the ether. Monday night before the Cup is a good time to party and the few days after the cup feel too light-hearted to take seriously.

This year we are experiencing a spate of fine, quite warm days over the carnival. It looks divine, and for those not heading for the track it's nice to pull on a pair of shorts and feel dressed. While it's not unknown for it to be this warm this early in the season, it is unusual to have so many warm days clumped together. It is a reminder of the summer looming before us, of Christmas, of holidays, of parties and the beach and cricket and cool drinks and everything else summer represents. That's what I think anyway.

In my case I certainly feel interrupted.I have been very busy, in the thick of it really, and on a peaceful morning such as this find myself sighing and yearning for the 'me' time I have put to one side. The period is ending and I am glad because while it was good it was also enough. A little familiar routine is not necessarily a bad thing, and besides, it's nice to return to the other things you need but find neglected in times like this.

I'm afraid I must put that off at least another day unfortunately. The last couple of nights have been very pleasant and quite late, and today I have people coming for lunch. I must be entertaining and social and while I'm sure I'll manage that, I'm wearing thin with the effort. How much nicer to have an old fashioned Sunday doing nothing. Oh to just sit down with a good book and a cool drink and enjoy life as if Monday was eons away. Maybe next week.