Gaura, Ananda and I took to the ravine at Brickworks. Each time I come here I see new developments. For instance I saw a switchback—a zig-zag hiking trail that wasn't there before. It was lined with large limestone slabs which I imagine will hold the trail in place, because on any hillside, such as this one, erosion from water can re-shape the hill's form. New shrubs and trees have also been planted to check erosion and add to the greenness of the place. In ten years, we will see a forest that wasn't there before.
These trails bring out the best in everyone. They give a break from the passion of a growing city. Everyone was so nice. We looked interesting. Ananda was in a rather stylish grey-blue yogiattire. Gaura sported a white dhoti with white T-shirt, while I was in brand-spanking-new saffron swami duds. Basically our pacing was abreast. While in stride we just chanted on our beads too loud for each other, especially Gaura. Please don't mind me saying that, Gaura, my friend.
Speaking of friends, we did make new ones from the canine community. One that let me stroke and massage it, from a bench at break-time, was a Siberian husky, a lovable two-year old, and spoiled rotten.
After our two-hour trek, Gaura was a wreck—meaning tired—but it was a good kind of fatigue he admitted, as did I. I have never noticed such a strong scent of diversity of flowers. It must be all the rain that's coming.
The balance of the day was administrative, but I felt no less an appreciation for the alternative service.