Flame Trees

I’m just savouring familiar sights,
We shared some history, this town and I
And I can’t stop that long forgotten feeling of her.


After seven countries in 12 years, the recurring question continues.

Where was your favourite place to live?

Not once have I ever said home. The real one. My home. The place where I was born, the place I return to. The place that holds a cemetery scattered with my own genealogical stories. We shared some history, this town and I.

As I drove down our main street yesterday with the little travellers strapped in, questions at the ready; a street where I walked bare feet as a child, learned to drive and ordered pizza after a long night at the pub. I was struck by just how beautiful my little hometown is. My eyes failed to see it as a child. Sunsets were ignored, expected. How does one miss such a spectacle each night? I took this town and the glistening river that runs through her centre for granted. I was distracted by the day to day – the stuff that either drove me crazy or I didn’t understand. There was definitely different rules for some of us.

As a child she was everything, but as a teen she began to feel a little plain. She couldn’t offer the excitement of the city. There were far too many times I lost my confidence in recalling her beauty, marred by others when they mocked her lack of interest. I continually broke up and got back together with her. Maybe I could stay here? I hate it here. What am I doing here? I’m not sure I’m cut out for here. There’s nothing to do here. The men here, ugh, the men here, oh maybe, him? Maybe I could stay here? I’m not meant to be here.

When G and I were married and she turned on a blistering hot north wind and 46 degree heat – a friend from Queensland declared her the most unenviable location. “Imagine living here? I thought you said it was green?” It was – when it wasn’t in the middle of a full blown drought. Was it just me? Couldn’t anyone else see her beauty?

But as I sit here watching houseboats move in time with the pelicans, no rush. With thoughts of water-skiing on glass like conditions at sunset, and parties held under gum trees. I wonder how I ever could have been so blind.

Imagine living here?

Yes. Yes I can. I can’t live here now, but yes, I could.

Oh the flame trees will blind the weary driver
And there’s nothing else could set fire to this town
There’s no change, there’s no pace
Everything within its place
Just makes it harder to believe that she won’t be around

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Comments

  1. Wow, Kirsty, you’ve struck a cord with this one. Never once have I ever said home. I haven’t either. My typical answer is “the last place” because the question is most often asked soon after arrival in a new one. And the last place is the one that still most feels like home. Friends left behind, school communities we’ve been a part of, shops where I know the names behind the counter or at least the faces are familiar.

    Your flame trees reminded me of one summer when I went home to Houston. It had been ages since we have traveled there at summer time and I was struck anew at the beautiful bright pinks of the oleanders and crepe myrtles. I had forgotten how fabulous they were. We have a home there. One day we’ll go back. Thanks for the reminder for the next time someone asks the question.

  2. Isn’t it hard, when people ask questions with such complicated answers.

    I’m very rooted in Wiltshire, UK – which is not where I was born but where my house is and where I come back to at the end of every trip. For I pack the rucksack at every opportunity. And meet people who ask my favourite country to visit – how is it possible to answer that? There are delights and challenges everywhere.

  3. It doesn’t matter where we go, nothing feels the same as driving down the hill into my hometown Mansfield where everything is ‘normal’. Enjoy the rest of your time in Oz. We are headed to our new home which we still have to find, in Moscow next week. Great post that I could relate to in so many ways, and I love that song. S x

  4. Mansfield in NE Vic perhaps? My home town right now……. and if so, driving down the hill into town is just what you say it is. Enjoy Moscow

  5. I was really surprised by how much we enjoyed our time in Houston, we lived just off the Bayou and one of my favourite memories is walking the beagle in the mornings while people ran/cycled by. I agree, Houston can be beautiful. Kx

  6. Can’t wait to hear about Moscow – will be thinking of you xx

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