the river

every day i cross this river twice. i cross this piece of my childhood, so integral in the life of sydney. the river that starts as a creek and becomes what i believe to be one of the most beautiful harbours in the world. I grew up by this river, in this river, on this river. playing in the mangroves and on the fairy's island down near the elephant cage at the end of my street. we'd leave in the morning and come home wet and dirty when our bellies said it was lunch time. as i got older there was sailing, rowing and canoeing on the river. surfing ferry waves in kayaks. floating in an upturned canoe, kissing in an upturned canoe because no-one else existed in the world at that time. sailing and constantly being terryfied of capsizing in the ferry channel. rowing to abbotsford alone in tom thumb, all the boys in arrowhead. beating the boys, proving that i was as good as them, and better. taking the row boats our for late night picnics. standing thigh deep in the most horrible sticky black mud at low tide, the only way to get out being to lie down. campfires on the beach. dead grass after a king tide. running and bombing off the end of the pier at tingira - completely against the rules, but so much fun. fetching soccer balls b4 they get too far.
i miss the times i've spent with this river. it is an old friend who will always be there for me. I would have as much trouble leaving it as i would leaving sydney.
everyday i cross this river twice, and my childhood lives on in my mind and i look forward to the next time i can get back in.

that is all.