Finding Beauty in Melbourne

It's been 19 weeks and 2 days since I moved to Melbourne, and while I still miss Adelaide very much, I continue to focus on finding beauty and good things in my new home.

Here are my Top Four Joyful Discoveries of the last few weeks:

4. Wilson Botanic Gardens
OK, I know I've mentioned this beautiful open space numerous times in previous postings, but these gardens really are worth a trip out to Berwick. Some of the trees are a little confused at present with the apparent change of season - who isn't? - but the variety of plantings, walks and sculptures make this a "must see" in the south eastern suburbs. Enjoy a cup of tea down Berwick's main street afterwards, with its convenient centre parking - a space always seems to open up, just when you need one!

3. South Melbourne Markets
Wow! Great food, yummy cakes, and the shop where I found the purple dress I've been sporting with joy the last couple of weeks. Might almost qualify as "a smaller version of Adelaide Central Markets". (Almost.)

2. Driving East along the Monash at Sunset
My husband and I did this on Saturday afternoon. I was driving and first noted the quality of the light reflected off the bridges, sound barriers and roadside vegetation; then Peter looked back and saw the stratified sunset behind us. I think the urban planners did a great job planting along the Monash, and seeing the various gardens bathed in rose-gold light was a real treat.

1. The Beach at Beaumaris
Admittedly, I saw this during lunchtime last Friday when the sun was shining strong and the temperature was warm - so I've probably seen it in its best possible light, for this time of year. However, new to this city as I am, I never realized there were beaches like this within Melbourne. I'd been to South Melbourne and St Kilda, where footpaths are separated from sand by cement pathways, but here there are strips of trees ... and sandstone cliffs to the south! I went home in rapture.

This picture is looking south; I only had the camera on my mobile phone with me, which was unable to do justice to the cliffs from afar.

Being in a new city isn't just about making new friends, it's about finding or creating a sense of 'home' in the midst of a new geography. For me, finding places or things I can connect with emotionally is a big part of this process. The search continues!

Climbing a hill

This morning my husband and I did something we've been meaning to do for ages: walk around the outer loop of Wilson Botanic Park, ascend its highest point, and contemplate the metropolis of Melbourne. Lousy weather had caused us to postpone this the last few weekends, so we grabbed the opportunity this beautiful autumn morning afforded us and sprang forth. OK, I may be overstating the facts here: I was springy, he was ... participating; I must admit I'd been looking forward to this more than he had!

I was particularly keen to walk him up the steepest tracks in the Park: "See? I can run up this hill!" - childishly proud of my fitness, and wanting him to appreciate it, too.

Climbing up hills always has symbolic meaning for me. Perhaps it stems from my childhood, spent in a small town on the western side of the Blue Mountains; perhaps it's simply that, metaphorically, I've had to climb a few hills in my lifetime.

When I first began regularly running, back in 2008, I wasn't very good at hills. (Who is?) As a friend pointed out back then, "there are no small hills when you're jogging." I had been attempting a particular long, steep climb for a week, and had been beaten by it each time, reduced to walking the last hundred metres or so, thighs burning and breath rasping. It was a couple of kilometres long: a straight line which became steeper and steeper as you ascended; the mathematically minded might think of an exponential graph.

One memorable morning, in the pre-dawn dim, I stopped at the bottom of that hill and gave it a good, hard look. I said to myself: "Catie, all you have to do to get to the top of this hill is keep putting one foot after the other until you get there." It wasn't a pretty run - perhaps 'stagger' would be the best term to describe those last few blocks! - but it was the first time that I'd made it to the top without stopping or walking.

It was fun to relive that memory this morning, to remember that truth about running, about life: to get there, no matter how hard it is, you simply have to keep putting one foot after another. I think I needed that reminder this week.

One foot after another, one foot after another; sometimes, in running as in life, endurance is the name of the game.

With luck, it comes with an endorphin rush!