TOUCH WOOD
in Sydney, and Centennial Parklands is busy with picnickers and sporty types. But instead of joining them, I’m rubbing my hands over the trunk of a tree. There are others around me doing the same thing. But they’re not my concern—rather, I’m focused on the texture of the silky paperbark and the coolness of grass beneath my bare feet; the sound of rustling gum leaves and the earthy smell of eucalyptus. Simple things I neglect to notice on my regular commute through these gardens because I’m always in a
