Day four, and today I’m following on
in a roundabout kind of way from yesterday. Where do you live in the world?
Bear with me, I have a point. Do you live somewhere famous for its beauty or
well known for its buildings? Is it historically important or in a lovely part
of the country? And if so, when was the last time you truly looked at it?
We are all guilty of this of course.
No matter how magnificent the view it becomes commonplace after a while and we
no longer see it. I was musing on this in the shower last night – and believe
me with my dearth of water pressure and indeed even a decent shower head (hand
held in my place) musing does not happen frequently in the shower! Well apart
from prosaic imaginings of water pressure and a shower head attached to the
wall.
I was thinking about the people born
and brought up in a place that is on the bucket list of most. Do they appreciate
what they see every day? I’m thinking not, because what you are brought up with
is your reality and not your dream. I was brought up in a tiny country town in
South East Queensland. It’s a wee little town in a valley, surrounded by
rainforest. It’s beautiful and I took that beauty for granted, didn’t even see
it. I saw only the time it took to get anywhere.
I spent a lot of years in Mackay,
living in some lovely places. My last home there was right next to an area
called The Gooseponds, a serene and lovely parkland full of bird life (not just
the geese although they are there in numbers also) and while I did love it and
I loved to be able to walk there whenever I wished, I didn’t really appreciate
the beauty of it. Mackay is on the coast so I could go to any one of a number
of beaches and walk for an hour without seeing more than a few people, and on
many days none at all. Of course you couldn’t swim there – stingers – but the
scenery would soothe the most tortured soul (trust me on that one).
Still, I didn’t truly appreciate the
freedom I had. I could go into my own back garden whenever I wanted, I had my
own little patch of grass and I could sit outside with my cheese, biscuits and
wine - accompanied by a dog who REALLY appreciated these events – and sit in
the short northern dusk listening to all the birds and bats going home to
roost.
Those are small things, but I don’t
have them any more. I can’t just go to the beach and walk for miles, I don’t
have a garden because now I live in an apartment. When I first came here I
suffered from claustrophobia and depression, struggling to adjust to the loss
of a freedom I didn’t recognize. There are benefits of course. The major one is
that I no longer have to fight on a weekly basis with a misogynist lawn mower (refused
to start for me, started every time for my ex causing him to look at me with
total disgust) and I count that blessing regularly. I am up high on the fifth
floor and I get a lovely view of the sea and the benefit of the sea breezes. I
don’t need a car because I can walk to wherever I need to go, or take one of the
frequent taxis – always an adventure in this part of the world.
But, that was all a complete
digression. My thinking last night was more about the people who live in places
like Rome, Paris, Cambridge, Santorini. Are they the luckiest people in the
world to live there or not? Does living your whole life with easy access to a
place like the Colosseum or The Louvre diminish its glory for you? I remember
watching a group of school children on a trip to The Louvre. I stared at them,
wondering what it would be like to have a regular school trip to a place like
that. But as I watched I realized that for them there was no magic. They had
seen the Venus de Milo plenty of times, they already knew how much smaller the
Mona Lisa is in real life. For them it was a far more prosaic place than it was
for me.
I have been very lucky to have seen
some wonderful sights in my travels and I stared at each one in awe, trying to
memorise every single aspect in case I never got back. Sometimes I think
Australians make the most appreciative of tourists (those that travel to see
such things I mean, not the Ugly Australian abroad) because for us it means
such a huge financial commitment and many hours of travel. We come from the
very bottom of the world, separated geographically by such vast distances that
it is lucky really our country is so big. We speak of travel in hours not in
kilometres. How far is it? About three hours. Oh not so bad then. So we are
less daunted by the prospect of a 22 or 24 hour flight. We may however pass out
in shock at the cost of that flight. But I digress again.
I think we all take the beauty of
our own part of the world for granted. Those children in The Louvre, the people
of Salisbury who drive past Stonehenge every day, residents of Cambridge who
don’t even notice Kings College Chapel, it’s all just the backdrop of their
lives. There is beauty everywhere if you look for it. Perhaps we should all
take time every once in a while to appreciate what makes our own place special.
Maybe you live in Paris (I have readers in France can you believe?) or Florence
– Galleria del’Accademia which houses the statue of David and that’s just for starters – or maybe
you live somewhere that is not famous. Well my little home town is not famous
but it is beautiful. And I bet there is beauty in your area that you haven’t
looked at or considered for ages.
The point I think I am trying to
make in my usual long winded and winding way, is that there is magic everywhere
and often we don’t recognize it until we lose it. So don’t wait to lose it, appreciate
where you live, search out the beauty and take the time to really look at it. Take
the time to smell the roses but expand that. Take the time to appreciate all
the beauty around you, be it a magnificent cathedral or a peaceful lake or a flower in a pot on your balcony. Look
at your part of the world like a tourist and never lose sight of how special it
is.
This is at Boloumba Creek at Kenilworth, my home town
My favourite beach at Mackay
The Gooseponds
Kings College Chapel
I can see the sunrise from my balcony here
And the sunset
Sheryl, I enjoy your rambling writing! Thank you for sharing pictures of your beautiful country. I live in Cedarburg, WI, USA, a quaint, historic town loved by the thousands of tourists who frequent its streets every year. When I first moved here, I avoided the main street because I didn't want it to become familiar or commonplace; I wanted to remain a tourist in my own town. Now, I travel that street almost daily, usually complaining along the way about the ridiculously slow drivers. And yet, when I slow down, I realize once again the charm and beauty of my little town, enjoying the old buildings and the natural scenery. I am so thankful to live someplace safe and neighborly for my children's sake. We are truly blessed to live here; I sometimes feel guilty for all that we have (and we are among the poorest in our wealthy community), considering those around the world who live in abject poverty, war torn lands, refugee camps, or overcrowded, smoggy cities. Thanks for the reminder to take that closer look and to be thankful everyday for where I live.
ReplyDeleteAimee thank you for such a beautifully written reply. Your little town sounds wonderful, you are lucky to have found it and to love living there. Thank you again, I appreciate your comments
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