Life has been fast. So fast that I haven't been taking photos. Or writing.

What you don't see is the enjoyment of riding my bike to work everyday; of reading a new book every week; of relearning Chinese most days; of joining a chess club again.

It has been a while since I have enjoyed routine this much.

Every Saturday, Nathan and I have had a batch brew at our new local favourite cafe in South Yarra after a sweaty morning of basketball. Our barista Zach gives us a couple of milk crates to sit by the curb and we talk life.

I have been stumbling into my neighbour Claire at the park on weekends to read in the sun; and we have bonded over books, food and change. She has given me FODMAP-friendly cookies, and different perspectives to ponder as a millennial observing her life as an independent woman slightly older than me.

Sometimes I spend enough money at the local green grocers that they give me flowers. A couple of weeks ago, I found a vase to put them in.

I have just come back from another trip overseas. But I think it is important to recognise what you often don't see here: the sweet moments in between at home.

They seem small; mundane; meaningless. Of which they are.

And yet they are hopeful. Profound. Golden.