I’m Not Talking Through My Hat
A few days ago, I was walking across the pedestrian footbridge from Southbank to Flinders Street Station, when I noticed a strange sight. I’m accustomed to seeing black swans on the Yarra, as well as a variety of other birds.
But there was something in the water that I could not identify. It was a long way away. Was it an albino duck?
It was 100 degrees and the sun was beating down mercilessly. But I simply had to solve the mystery.
Then I realised it wasn’t a bird. Was the tide bringing it closer to me or away from me? It was hard to tell. Then, with the object about 100 metres away, the penny dropped.
It was a woman’s broad-brimmed straw hat, a familiar – and popular - piece of headgear on scorching summer days like this. But Melbourne’s breeze is capricious and very strong. Sometimes you really need to hold on to your hat in more ways than one.
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