Love letter to Canberra

This is a poem I wrote to Canberra for her 100th birthday, and to celebrate living in Canberra for five years on 17 January, 2013 – it is a cross-post from here. I feel it really sums up perfectly how I feel about Canberra, and what inspires this blog every day, so thought it deserving of its own page.

Dear Canberra

Five years ago today
at 11.50am
I boarded a plane to be with you indefinitely
even though
I’d never met you.

I remember the horror I felt when I realised
from my seat (11B)
that with each second
the plane was taking me further
and further
away
from everything I knew.

Our first meeting was on the back
of your inhabitants’ generosity
and smiles.
I don’t remember 11A’s name
or face
but somehow
she had the kindness –
the guts –
to point out landmarks to me
on your thirsty land
after I’d disrupted the entire flight
with too-soon homesick tears.

Next, a familiar face spotted me
insisted she and her partner
properly introduce me to you
with a tour.
They knew you well
were at ease with you
and from inside the car
(where you couldn’t hear us)
gave me a brief education on your quirks.

The next day it seemed natural
to get to know your democratic heart
so I stood in the House of Reps
saw a copy of the Magna Carta
(legend has it that it’s
stained with hot cocoa)
and heard why Parliament House’s roof
was the only green grass
you were able
to wear.

You put a lot of effort into our introduction –
insisting I meet
your pubs and restaurants and festivals
(on our first Australia Day together
we saw some fellow named Gotye
perform on Parliament House’s
lawns)
but I wasn’t sure how much I liked you
and wasn’t sure whether
I could actually live with you
long term.

You sure took a bit of getting used to
with your ‘lane one forms’
your 9pm summer sunsets
your 4.30pm winter sunsets
your omnipresent pay parking
your drivers who rush to fill
allandanygapsbetweencars
your highways between suburbs
your CBD called ‘Civic’
and yes, your many roundabouts.

Sometimes you just assumed
that I would simply know
the important things about you:
that I’d have my winter coat ready
to fight off
your icy moods;
that I’d anticipate your frosty punishment
if I left my car outside
overnight
in winter;
that I’d be able to speak Acronym
fluently
with you;
that your winter begins
on April 25
and doesn’t end in August
or even September
but in mid-October.

To be honest,
at times
I just wasn’t sure I could stand you.

But, I put in the effort
to make our relationship
work.
Slowly,
you began to share with me
your surprises
events which would change your life
and your secrets.

And now
Five wonderful years have passed.

You’ve surprised me with:
the amount of people
who brave the winter Raiders games;
how a road accident causes serious traffic delays –
not because of the prang
but because everyone
slows.
down.
to.
stare;
seagulls in Civic (what the?);
how to pronounce Wamboin
Weetangera
and Bonython;
Deakin Pharmacy which cures me
of any ailment;
taxi drivers who remember me
six months later;
the breathtaking afternoon view of the Brindabellas
from the crest of Erindale Drive;
American chocolate (peanut butter cups!!!) in your IGAs.

I remember celebrating with you
when your drought broke;
when the sign on Belconnen Way
urging water restraint
was finally taken away.
I remember when Black Mountain Tower
started changing colour
at night
and when it seemed like the GDE
would never be finished.
I remember staying up late with you
on 23 June 2010
glued to ABC News
and how you carried on
the next day
unperturbed.

With your encouragement, I’ve
climbed walked up Mt Kosciuszko (twice);
frozen my feet in Blue Waterholes
on a 40 degree day;
kayaked on Lake Burley Griffin;
listened to the whispering trees
in the Pinnacle;
had my attempts to hike
Mt Gingera
thwarted by you
(three times!)
(one day I’ll get there);
met kangaroos
in the strangest of places;
celebrated with picnics
at Shepherd’s Lookout;
floated with marshmallow clouds
atop Booroomba Rocks
in winter;
canoed down Kangaroo River;
bought armfuls of lilies
from the Saturday Farmers Markets;
stood in a snowstorm on Mt Ginini;
attended music festivals
between two Government buildings;
breathed in the peppermint trees
of the Boboyan Valley;
spotted an echidna ambling
on the shores of Lake Ginninderra, and
marvelled at the lake’s steam-like July morning fog;
cursed the chilly South Coast waves
and their remarkable skill
in bikini stealing;
shivered in the coolness
of Yarrangobilly Caves;
had fish nibble on my feet
in the Snowy River.

I’ve jostled for a seat at Wig and Pen;
joined in the excitement about the opening of Me and Mrs Jones;
heard the stories about
Sails
Pandora’s
South Pac;
counted down to the Multicultural Festival;
trekked to Goodberry’s
for their headache-ending solutions;
confirmed Mee’s Sushi is THE BEST;
salivated when discussing Griffith Vietnamese;
mourned when Portia left Portia’s Place;
cooked my own steak at the Kingston Hotel;
fantasised about 2 Yummy’s
salt and pepper bean curd;
argued that Civic Asian Noodle House
beats Dickson’s (it does!);
eaten a truckload of macarons
from the Flute Bakery;
and raved about Sage
to anyone who’ll listen.

Every day I fall more in love
with your packed breakfast cafes
and the sun on your lakes.
During the day
I look forward to
embracing you after work;
your golden-mauve twilight;
the bright stars in your sky;
and late nights in Civic with friends.
Even your wintry moods are worth it
because they’ve taught me
what it means
to truly appreciate
your spring.

After five years
some people would say
I should know everything about you
but instead
I remain overwhelmed
with all there still is
to learn about
and celebrate.
But Canberra, what I do know
is just how lucky I am
to be with you.
(Thanks for letting me be
a part of your life.)

Related articles

• Canberra – Smack bang in the middle (but just a bit closer to Sydney) (pipmarks.com)
• Canberra Nara Candle Festival (inthetaratory.wordpress.com)
• Capital Time – Canberra, Australia (travelpod.com)
• Canberra – Wow (thewatersaroundoz.wordpress.com)
• Mt Majura (inthetaratory.wordpress.com)

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