The Western Suburbs

I think every person should be proud of where they come from. One should never hate where one comes from, no matter how dire the circumstances. After all, it is God who chose one's birthplace and where one grew up.

I'm from the Western suburbs of Sydney. My home suburb, Bonnyrigg Heights, is located about an hour's drive from the CBD (downtown Sydney). I'm glad it's an hour's drive. It means we have plenty of distance between the fumes, horns, tourists and ourselves. Not that there's no traffic out our way, but the roads are wider, and parking is easy to find and free. Moreover, we have natural reserves and parks around every corner; wide open spaces to walk and think and feel free. Here, the sky seems ever so wider and thinking becomes ever so clearer.. 

Kookaburras

We have beady-eyed black and white Magpies, laughing Kookaburras, and Blue Tongue Lizards. Lots and lots of spiders. As kids we'd take a long sheath of grass and stick it down a spider hole in an attempt to lure the spider out. At first sight of it's hairy legs we'd bolt (Aussie slang for 'run really fast'). Our street is a cul-de-sac (dead-end); thus, not much traffic passes in front of our home. Riding a bike without a helmet is against the law here, but as kids my neighbours and I never wore helmets because our home is tucked away far enough from the main street that police cars don't patrol here. It was a great place to grow up on Haydn Place.


Surprise, surprise, I've decided to celebrate my love for the Western suburbs with a poem:

The Suburbs

The Sun is shining

On this Sunday morning
Feeling so gay
And alive

Hear the bell
My friends are calling
"Come and play outside"

Grab my hat, 
Grab my bike
We rule the streets
Day and night


Mowers hum
Leaving behind the scent
Of freshly cut grass

We play hopscotch
And drink cold lemonade

While Kookaburras laugh 

I soak in the ambience

Shall remember forever

This magical past