Paddington [Brisbane]

24 July 2006

In every gully there is a cached surprise of house tucked away in amongst the lush growth, on every ridge the breath is drawn away from the lungs as the airborne mind swoops across to the next ridge, the houses winking at each other as the sun makes its autumn parabola over the wrinkles of the land. Renovator's paradise, these dwellings rising off their tall stilts, shouldering each other aside, up and down the slopes, dry timber awaiting the lick of fresh paint, window casements to be eased, acroteria to be repaired, barge board to be treated with finial, belvederes to be braced, colours to be chosen from the alluring charts. Down in the dip, near where the builder was hard at it amongst the cut boards and the stack of timber, three recalcitrant youths gave us the finger, one threw a fruit at the car, and then they darted like Wild Indians into the deep canopied bush, their school bags flapping uselessly like extra limbs. Heavy rain concluded the chase and in the gathering darkness the antique shops lost their allure, the lights of the city began to emerge in the glimpses back down the valleys, as we headed off the ridge once more, down to the dark mangrove flats of the coast.

ARTS AND CULTURE

Paddington [Brisbane]

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