Tuesday, March 8, 2016

March 8. Day 68. Sense of direction

It's a lucky thing I'm not a bird.

A red-necked stint weighs just 30 grams and can migrate between Siberia and Australia each year. My weight may be "somewhat" more than that but I can get lost getting to the mailbox. If I had to use a compass I probably couldn't find my way from the bedroom to the en suite. I'm pretty sure the developers of phone map apps have a picture of me on the laptop to refer to when it is important to have a vision of the target market. Forget using complex directional terms such as north and south, this person has a "little" trouble with concepts such as left and right. My navigational compass is like the one historical gas stripping tower at West End - missing a few elements like north and west.  Yet the birds seemed to be able to navigate their way around the structure this afternoon no trouble at all. I'd have no hope. It's an affliction that has haunted me since I was a child. I still remember school dance lessons where they would bark difficult instructions such as "left, left, left, right, left". In this situation having two left feet was the least of my problems.

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