It's pretty quiet now. Save for the steady humming of what I suspect to be a large air conditioner stowed somewhere. The occasional rustling of the leaves would tell you that the possums are coming down to feed on a nearby garbage bin. Charming animals, these nocturnal marsupials. Occasionally, my fellow allnighters would come out here for a cigarette, hoping that it will jack up their system. Hoping that, for example in my case, it will help figure out why a company pursuing a related diversification strategy would opt for multi-divisional structure or whether works council is better than traditional unions.
Come daytime, people would come and go. Banters exchanged, opinions offered. Some New Age guys sell veggy lunches between 11 and 2 on the far end. In summer, squadrons of white cockatoos would insist on having their say up there in the trees. Noises. Lots of them.
But it's quiet now. And they are all behind me. It's time to go home.
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