I don’t really have much idea what native Australians mean by the term walkabout, but for many years walking around in the city, with or without a destination, has been something that has really helped my peace of mind. Walking places means you have time to think. A friend of mine was once banned from driving and lent me his car for six months. I kept arriving places too soon, my mind still in the last place I’d left.
A couple of weeks ago, before the rainy season, I walked back from St.James to Woodhouse. The air was charged with something special, a kind of promise.
There was still a little late Spring bite, but leaves and blossom were out or nearly on cherry trees by Thomas Danby. One of the most interesting bits of sea or land is the beach between them, and of the day when it’s just arriving and leaving, like that eve. The city seemed open like the future – exciting, dangerous, for better or worse full of the new…..
Two weeks later I did the same walk, same time of evening, and it was completely different – different light, different feel. The city’s like a beach – you never know what will wash up on the shore of your experience when you walk through it.