In hard rubbish week, while the street is lined with broken couches and abandoned TVs, someone has shredded a phone book, leaving white and yellow pages like autumn leaves all down Grandview Street. Some pages have drifted into gardens, some line the pavement or the nature strip. Some look like a wild animal has goneContinue reading “All the Names”
Rejoice! But first: there’s the stockings to fill. Some products may be unavailable in stores, but this one ships before Christmas. Rejoice at same-day dispatch; rejoice that you’ve met your Kris Kringle requirements. When the presents are bought and the turkey is basting, when the family’s sleeping, rejoice.
A scramble for parking greets us, then the festive aisles to survive. These shelves have been stocked with seasonal cheer since the night when the dead arose. Now celebration cake replaces pumpkins to carve, and the shock is swapped with the joyful trimmings of the time. Yet what room is there? I negotiate tight spacesContinue reading “Hyfrydol in the Suburbs”
True – but the wait weighs heavily now. So many delays, and you can expect more road blocks through the coming weeks as rolling closures right across the north-west make violent signs of little worth. Light and momentary? Perhaps; so, at least, we trust, yet faith not sight must rule the game if there’s toContinue reading “Light and Momentary”
…the war he brought back with him is never far away in this suburb. (Steven Carroll, The Gift of Speed) Do you remember water from the rock? How you quarried homes in this ancient soil, when these broad meadows were the stuff of dreams? Remember when the men came back from years and years ofContinue reading “At the Right Time (Glenroy Lent #8)”
What a discrepancy between the joyful winging of birds and the fear in men and women… (Jean Vanier, The Broken Body) And how one cricket starts a neighbourhood symphony in the grass of our roaming near the concrete of our homing in these streets and these footpaths at a Friday-pink dusk while the street inContinue reading “Avenue (Glenroy Lent #6)”
Suburb has its own time. Nestled just beneath city’s scheduled view, it sits when city runs. It holds deep memories and secrets, left in garages, holds hopes in council offices. Roadwork punctuates the day’s first lines. Promises in orange signs declare: something soon is happening. Prepare. You may have left your lunch behind, may haveContinue reading “Glenroy Lent: Long Shrift”