The moon was full and we could hear the sound of running footsteps. We hid behind cars and crouched down beside wheels. We hid beside lamposts and waited for the chaser to be distracted as he or she found another runner. The sound of the footsteps as they clattered across gutters and down laneways. The bluestones making the sound of frantic escape past back gates and running into the light of the street light at the end of the lane. Enjoying the warmth of the Summer evening and the chase.
We didn't need the street lights; just the moonlight and all the kids running, hiding being found and then running, hiding again. The doors of the homes finally opening onto the street. No more than two metres off the footpath and the voices calling; Michael, Peter, Valda, Helen; come home now it is bedtime.
And the night became quiet in North Fitzroy as the kids in Egmont Street went inside for their evening drink before bed. Mine as always milk and sugar. Warm and comforting; then into bed with the wireless and a good book. But the memory of the night of adventure in the back streets of North Fitzroy etched in the memory bank to be pulled out and used when a magical personal moment was required.
My love of this time of day extended into my substantial life of memories and moments to love. It even extended into my game, tennis. Sitting watching the night come over the courts after a lovely day of activity and laughter. The light and the softness of the day sliding into night. The accomplishment of achieving another day to cherish and look into for a marvellous life in later years.
Camping on the Peninsula and the wonderful evenings after a hot day of beach, sailing and friendship. The camp lights coming on in each of the individual camps. People bringing their beach chairs out to sit and chatter about their lives and the day past. The kids disappearing into the fading light. Running as a gang in and out of camps and finding enough light to climb rocks and walk on the pier or just sit around talking. Groups and groups and groups of people who were friends enjoying each other laughing talking, opening bottles of win and laughing some
more. And after a day of living in the hot sun; the joy of the evening cool taking us all back to our day gone and another day coming. Knowing our kids were safe within ear shot (So we believed) and finally calling: Okay kids bedtime; and they came knowing that tomorrow was another day of the same. Beach, sun, surf and sailing. And at nightfall we would reflect and store the memories of the day.
I sat on my deck in complete silence in later years; the sun had slid out and the creek was making noises and now and again I could hear a sheep or a dog calling. The nightbirds calling. But mostly it was quiet; with just the creek making the sound as the night crept over the hill in front of the home. Silent, close and safe. Another beautiful memory to pop into my memory bank. No kids by then. All gone! Off into their own lives. To return now and again and share the quiet of the evening light sliding into darkness with their own children.
And Now: Walking the dogs through the streets of this country town. Nearly dark, but not quite there yet. A warm evening turning cool as we walked. Quiet, still and nearly devoid of traffic. The lights in the homes taking over the view as they came on. Walking past some front doors I can hear the TV noises. But mostly just quiet and calm; and so very beautiful. My footsteps the only sound as the sound changed with the changing surfaces of the footpath. My dogs walking
comfortably on their leads ; enjoying the cool and the darkness which came to us
as we approached home.
You might realise I love that time of the day. It is the best time of the day. Because the day is done with and there is no regret to look back on; except living a life. And the town offers the beauty of community. Quietly hiding behind the lights of the houses. The soft evening air cooling me after a hot day. The light of the night engulfing and holding its most beautiful time. The transition of evening to night. So soft; so fulfilling. A pleasure, a privilege in living. And knowing it will all come again; the softness, the darkness and the coolness of a beautiful evening.
Helen Duggin
21 November 2020
We didn't need the street lights; just the moonlight and all the kids running, hiding being found and then running, hiding again. The doors of the homes finally opening onto the street. No more than two metres off the footpath and the voices calling; Michael, Peter, Valda, Helen; come home now it is bedtime.
And the night became quiet in North Fitzroy as the kids in Egmont Street went inside for their evening drink before bed. Mine as always milk and sugar. Warm and comforting; then into bed with the wireless and a good book. But the memory of the night of adventure in the back streets of North Fitzroy etched in the memory bank to be pulled out and used when a magical personal moment was required.
My love of this time of day extended into my substantial life of memories and moments to love. It even extended into my game, tennis. Sitting watching the night come over the courts after a lovely day of activity and laughter. The light and the softness of the day sliding into night. The accomplishment of achieving another day to cherish and look into for a marvellous life in later years.
Camping on the Peninsula and the wonderful evenings after a hot day of beach, sailing and friendship. The camp lights coming on in each of the individual camps. People bringing their beach chairs out to sit and chatter about their lives and the day past. The kids disappearing into the fading light. Running as a gang in and out of camps and finding enough light to climb rocks and walk on the pier or just sit around talking. Groups and groups and groups of people who were friends enjoying each other laughing talking, opening bottles of win and laughing some
more. And after a day of living in the hot sun; the joy of the evening cool taking us all back to our day gone and another day coming. Knowing our kids were safe within ear shot (So we believed) and finally calling: Okay kids bedtime; and they came knowing that tomorrow was another day of the same. Beach, sun, surf and sailing. And at nightfall we would reflect and store the memories of the day.
I sat on my deck in complete silence in later years; the sun had slid out and the creek was making noises and now and again I could hear a sheep or a dog calling. The nightbirds calling. But mostly it was quiet; with just the creek making the sound as the night crept over the hill in front of the home. Silent, close and safe. Another beautiful memory to pop into my memory bank. No kids by then. All gone! Off into their own lives. To return now and again and share the quiet of the evening light sliding into darkness with their own children.
And Now: Walking the dogs through the streets of this country town. Nearly dark, but not quite there yet. A warm evening turning cool as we walked. Quiet, still and nearly devoid of traffic. The lights in the homes taking over the view as they came on. Walking past some front doors I can hear the TV noises. But mostly just quiet and calm; and so very beautiful. My footsteps the only sound as the sound changed with the changing surfaces of the footpath. My dogs walking
comfortably on their leads ; enjoying the cool and the darkness which came to us
as we approached home.
You might realise I love that time of the day. It is the best time of the day. Because the day is done with and there is no regret to look back on; except living a life. And the town offers the beauty of community. Quietly hiding behind the lights of the houses. The soft evening air cooling me after a hot day. The light of the night engulfing and holding its most beautiful time. The transition of evening to night. So soft; so fulfilling. A pleasure, a privilege in living. And knowing it will all come again; the softness, the darkness and the coolness of a beautiful evening.
Helen Duggin
21 November 2020
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