The rest of the world was a long way away.

One of those evenings where the sliding doors of happenstance align to let only good things in.

Illuminated by the golden hour, people mill about the lake, walking or sitting in small groups enjoying a picnic, or just soaking in it. Amongst it all kids enthusiastically do their thing.

Much of the conversation contains remarks about how perfect the sunset is, or how temperate the weather has been, or how cool this festival (a celebration of Japan/Australia relationships) has been. There is a gratitude for deeper things left unspoken.

For a few hours, all the conflicts and dramas of the planet are diluted to a bland background radiation. Washed clear by the simple privilege of sunlight and candlelight and people just being people.