At seventeen I was desperate to leave my small country
hometown. With its population of 22,000 and shops that close on Sundays, I felt
stifled. Someone always knows your business or asks about your mum’s knees.*
❤
As it turns out, the very thing that I was trying to escape
from – other people, who know my entire life history – became the thing I
longed for the most once I’d moved to Sydney. Gone was the comfort of knowing
exactly where I was going, and the small pleasure of running into a friend in
town with whom a quick wave hello becomes half an hour of surreptitious gossip.
The innate sense of familiarity, and knowledge of the best way to get home with
maximum avoidance of stop signs and hill starts. Unfortunately there is no way
to get anywhere in Armidale without going through approximately 800
roundabouts, but there are only 2 sets of traffic lights, so there’s that.
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Yes, city friends, we do have an airport. In fact, Armidale is serviced by more than one airline these days! |
There is a lure to small town life, although it took me a
while to realise that Armidale is not like other small towns. It has a
university, for a start, and now a preponderance of hipster cafes (although
they don’t do all day breakfast, so what’s the point?!). The art gallery, the
local beers, being able to drive from one side of town to the other in 15
minutes. And it’s just so
beautiful.
Spring, with the cherry
blossoms and wisteria starting to bloom, and clear blue skies; I want to take
photos but there’s no point really because it’s something in the air, not just
the trees. Autumn has the changing leaves, and even winter has a certain
austere beauty on those grey days.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot since arriving in the
Middle East. I’m hoping that I will come to see that the desert has its own
beauty. I’m not quite there yet.
The other day, landing in Sydney, my eyes welled with tears.
Not actually because I was at home, but because there was grass between the
runways, and it was so green. And then I cried because I was crying because there was grass at the airport. Emotions are running high at the moment.
Even though living Sydney made me miserable
because of the traffic, and my long commute, the anonymity and facelessness of
the city, I loved our neighbourhood; our wide leafy street and the Cooks River.
I hated our apartment, with its stucco roof, 4 flights of stairs, mouldering
kitchen, terrible oven and slowly decaying bathroom, but sitting out on the
balcony just looking up at the sky, I could forget all that and just listen to
the wind in the trees. And also the neighbour threatening to kill someone, but
even that had a certain charm.
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Do you see that little speck at 1 o'clock? That's a Qantaslink Q400 with none other than Rob driving it. Ahh, even living under the flight path had positives. |
I recognised some years ago now that my heart is in the
country. I discovered a love of the outdoors and started to miss the cold
winter air, smelling of wood smoke. Never mind that it gives you asthma… it
gives me a sense of contentment.
This past weekend was a reunion of sorts with
my group of high school friends, and even those of us who moved far and fast are
starting to feel the pull of the small town life.
A friend who moved to
Melbourne is looking to get out (although Armidale is currently off her list
because it’s too cold); another has just bought a house here.
We all spread our branches far out into other places, but our
roots are here and they run deep.
❤