out and about

A thick-chested tank of a man rolls into the gelato shop, his movement fast, light and fluid. He’s tall, with buzz-cut blonde hair and a goatee beard, sunglasses, black shorts and black athletic singlet, white socks and gleaming white trainers. Tattoos bulging on his legs and arms. Before you know it he’s out again, crossing the road with his head thrown back, stuffing pastry into his mouth.

A woman with a blue walking stick stops on the footpath, hand to mouth, as if she’s forgotten something. She wears ankle-baring dark blue slacks and a floral blouse, soft shoes, black-framed glasses, and a black baseball cap over short grey hair. A black bag hangs from her forearm.

She turns, turns back, turns again and walks to the corner. The lights change and off she goes, confident now, not relying on the stick at all but marking each step with a tap.

A smallish boy across the road hangs back on his mother’s hand, pulling and pulling. It may be a trick of the distance, but he appears to have a chip packet on his head.

‘Please please please!’ says a young woman outside the gelato shop, squeezing her partner’s chin. She leads the way in, saying: ‘Ya-ah! Look at those cakes!’

A tough woman swaggers past the gelato shop with curled lip, workout shorts and black Guns ‘n’ Roses t-shirt. A glimpse of leathery midriff, if you dare. On a lead behind her, two sweet little dogs smile up at the tables.

A woman inside the gelato shop to a woman with a small dog outside the gelato shop:

‘I didn’t mean you’re an idiot.’

As if by magic, mother and Small Bundle of Energy are again on the far side of the road. Conferring. The mother turns and walks along the front of the hotel, and Small Bundle cartwheels after her.

A car swings round the corner and zips past. In the near-side window is a short red haircut and a pale, frowning forehead.

At the front of a bicycle, a mini fox terrier sits tall in a milk crate.

A mother and her Small Bundle of Energy cross the road. Small Bundle is blonde, in pink shorts and green top, and swings her arm in a circle while enriching her stride with skips, leaps and side-steps. Set free on the footpath, she trials a sequence of arm movements, then hops into a dance routine.

A free-range black cocker spaniel says hello then steps back, waiting for his elderly human. At the main road he pauses again, for harness attachment, and when his human is safely secured he trots around the corner.

Two police cars rip like bullets through the intersection, and before you even register what’s happened, they’re gone.

A small girl is dressed to kill in a hot pink top, pink and white striped fairy skirt, black leggings and pink shoes. She has long brown curly hair, and a topknot that bounces like a pom pom.

In the shade of the Telstra box, a schoolboy sits with his laptop open and a bag between his feet. Behind him, the Tasman Sea is blue.

Two parents with a stroller wait to cross the side-street. A small, imperious finger points, and both parents lean right down. With tufts of brown hair blowing in the wind, the child chews thoughtfully on its dummy.

A serious-looking older woman, with silver hair in a salon bob, pauses with one hand raised and performs a stately pirouette. Her Miniature Schnauzer looks up, satisfied, and they continue to the lights.

A line of school kids in mufti walks down from Battle Boulevard at the Spit. One girl is a beetle with her jacket over a backpack, and two boys at the end wear ribbed, bright yellow carapaces.

A tall young woman at Collaroy, elegant in a long, black, sleeveless dress and wearing her dark hair piled high, walks to the crossing with a white cord swinging in her hand. She swaps a tablet to her other hand and presses the pedestrian button.

A young woman struggles out to the footpath with the Adult Novelties sign.

A small girl dances by a pram, toes turning and heels swinging back and forth.

A man in dark blue clothing reaches the bus stop, out of breath. He wipes his mouth, grinning foolishly as he watches the two B1s pull away.

Two B1s arrive in convoy at Warringah Mall, and half the queue makes a break for the second bus. One of the breakaways, a woman in a black mask, stops suddenly and glances up at each top deck in turn. Decision made, she runs.

A man cleans the Hungry Jack’s sign with a broom that spouts water. The water misses, sailing up over the sign and arcing down to the driveway.

Spit Road, Mosman. An orange, transparent, spiky ball sits among bark chips at the base of a wire fence.

Just past the Anzac Bridge, a network of vast steel pylons has been driven into the water.