We use cookies to provide some features and experiences in QOSHE

More information  .  Close
Aa Aa Aa
- A +

Sydney moves to autumn without a drumroll – surprising for this drama queen of a city

3 1 0

Born on the second day of autumn, it’s little wonder I’ve always felt most at home in cities where that season celebrates itself with dramatic shifts of hue and climate.

Melbourne. Canberra. London. And Canberra again, where the Limestone Plains – and the hundreds of thousands of European trees imposed upon them – segue from verdant to every glorious variation of russet and gold, as the air sharpens under an ever more vivid, clear cobalt sky.

Now it’s Sydney, a city, initially at least, frightening to me for its expanse and moving (and broken) parts, a place to which I moved somewhat reluctantly but where I now feel at home. The first summer was a killer for a Melbourne boy, its searing, burning days made doubly unbearable by life-sapping humidity.

My dogs, accustomed to the dry of the national capital, went wild on the beach and in the water in the more temperate pre-dawns. Sun up – and its sudden illumination of the harbour into an expanse of mauve and pink that put into sharp relief Cockatoo Island’s industrial chimneys and cranes, and the city’s towers of commerce – beckoned them home, panting and wet, for days spread-eagled and motionless on the relative cool of the wooden floor by the back door. I quickly learned to love those early evening harbour breezes and to understand why Ruth Park’s........

© The Guardian