Townsville...the Entity

With each day that I spend in Townsville, new experiences and things of beauty are etched into my memory. It's as if the city has a voice, a story to tell. It speaks in a relaxed, sagacious tone, communicating with anyone who will but stop and listen. So I listen to the culture and charisma of Paradise...gradually learning its secrets and sharing in its everyday treasures. We are forming a close friendship, Townsville and I--more like a love affair really.

Ah the warmth...the balmy nights and scorching days of the tropics. The heat is not a malicious heat, but an expression of fervent love.

When the sun hits the solid surface of Castle Hill it is set on fire, burning passionately. The Hill draws you, it pulls you towards Itself like a firm, all-engulfing embrace. Yield yourself to the embrace and you will hear the very heartbeat of Townsville.

Tropical rain falls often like whispers of devotion or like a heavy torrent of emotion. I walk in the rain, and taste it on my lips. A neighbour pulls her car up alongside me and kindly offers me a lift to wherever I need to go. I thank her and explain that this is not necessary. I'm doing exercise, I tell her...but really, I am basking in the rain purely for the enjoyment of its touch and being energized by its coolness.

The pigeons and seagulls. Oh how I love these gorgeous, menacing birds! The pigeons flock to tables with leftover food and coffee cups outside Juliette's cafe on the Strand. They hover with the seagulls near couples who are eating fish and chips by the sea. They peck away at crumbs on the pavement in Flinders Street Mall, unperturbed by shoppers and passers-by stepping inches near their little bodies. The seagulls too appear undisturbed by human influence, casually descending onto Flinders Street at 1:00am on a Saturday night, dodging taxis, maxi-cabs and rowdy night-clubbers. They are so at home in the city, it's as if we are the intruders on their property.

I walk past the public payphone on my way into work. A backpacker, wearing an armful of cheap bangles from several different countries, is conversing loudly in a foreign language--possibly Romanian. Townsville attracts people from all over the world. Some form a bond with the city and are unable to leave, trapped blissfully under its spell for many years...possibly for the remainder of their lives.

There is a young male busker with a long, dark ponytail who sits outside the shopping complex where I work. There he plays his guitar once or twice a week, and sings as if his heart would break. If he hasn't graced us with his music for over a week or two, workers within the complex start to miss him, wonder where he is. He has struck a cord within all of us, I think.

There are many priceless moments that I share with Townsville...my new home, my new love. My heart soaks it all up like a sponge. I wonder what I will experience tomorrow, and I cannot wait to find out.