Coincidentally, there pops up online a sparklingly fine and readable piece all about daydreaming.

Here is a taste of Leslie Jamison's Dreamers In Broad Daylight: Ten Conversations. As they read it, Canberran readers might tune their thoughts to the ever-newsworthy-for-Canberrans subject of light rail public transport.

"I've spent my whole life daydreaming," Ms Jamison confides.

"It feels like infidelity. It's often been about infidelity. I've daydreamed while walking, while running, while drinking, while smoking ... I've daydreamed on every form of transport - something about commuting feels conducive to daydreaming, the pockets of time in between our commitments, and the fact of the body in motion, neither here nor there ... Studies have found that daydreaming accounts for between a quarter and a half of our waking hours, that we do it every few minutes, during nearly every activity except sex."

There is a light rail connection here. Ms Jamison is reminding us how and why public transport commuting is so wonderfully daydream-stoking.

For Canberrans the cascade of joys following the Heaven-sent result in the federal election includes the strong likelihood that the Albanese government will mightily contribute to the cost of extending light rail across our city.

An ebullient ACT chief minister and transport minister have told The Canberra Times that the ACT government now expects to get a far fairer share of federal doubloons and that with Albo a proven infrastructure enthusiast, light rail's Stage 2B, sending it (with whisper-quiet trundling) through the city's parliamentary triangle and beyond, is now sure to get an accelerating doubloonboost.

This column's heartfelt support for light rail has always harped on the virtues of it, of public transport commuting (the sorts of things Ms Jamison is pointing to), things that are never daydreamt of by the bean-counters who shrill about its dollar cost. Who can calculate the priceless worth of a magical, mysterious transport of delight that stokes daydreams in the bosoms of its entranced patrons?

Meanwhile, those of us with a deepening sense that everything in Australian life has been given a new lustre by the removal of the malignant and soul-strangling Morrison government continue to see that new lustrousness everywhere.

Like-minded readers, I wish you could have been with me high up in Canberra's windswept National Arboretum early last Tuesday morning and looking far to the bush-upholstered and mountainous south. Miscellaneous rainbows were at play down there and for a few very fine and operatic minutes there was the lovely optical illusion of volcano-shaped Mount Tennant actually being a volcano (the ACT's very own sweet-tempered version of Mount Vesuvius) but a volcano churning out rainbows.

Did these sorts of wonders ever occur during the dispiriting Morrison years? Perhaps they did, but I prefer to think that mighty Nature and meteorology and mountains are buoyed (just as millions of ordinary little Australians are) by the election result and are being moved to show and share their joy.

Wildlife, too, has been buoyed and changed by the election result.

One evening last weekend I was alone at Weston Park's swish pétanque piste having a quiet training session. I am new to the demandingly, infuriatingly French sport of pétanque and need to train a lot lest my ineptitude at it drives me to drink myself to death with absinthe.

Suddenly, looking up, I found 29 kangaroos just a stone's throw (or a boule's roll) away, all watching me, rapt in me and in the funny French thing I was doing. How pricked-up their ears!

It was a lovely experience to be the centre of their attention. A captive audience (in this case not only captive but tagged as well) is a wonderful thing. Had I been an electioneering Zed Seselja-esque politician I might have instinctively moved among them, pressing their flesh and inflicting my insincere kisses on their babies.

Instead, for I am an unfulfilled poet and seldom get the chance to inflict my poetry on others, I put down my cold and steely boules and instead performed for the appreciative marsupials a warm and tender poem inspired by the brand new day ushered in by the sweet election result.