Growing Up In Graceville
The joys of growing up as a child in Graceville, a leafy neighbourhood in the western suburbs of Brisbane meant three things – riding my bike, exploring parks and craft making.
I am the eldest of three children and lived on a corner block that eventually was flooded in 1974, when no one could see the roof.
The best birthday present I received was when I was seven years old; my parents bought me a second-hand bicycle, and not a small one but a full-sized bike. I practised every day riding around the clothesline and footpath, eventually taking to the roads and parks.
My bike gave me a sense of freedom. It allowed me to visit friends, discover mysterious secrets along the way, and get to places more quickly. I rode to primary school and also high school, sometimes getting a puncture in the tyres and wheeling it home.
The second joy of my childhood was playing in parks. The steam roller park at Graceville was the best, with slides, swings and roundabouts that made me dizzy and silly. I climbed the flagpoles, rode the engines, and chased my brother and sister past the see-saws to the climbing frames. I loved the Arboretum at Sherwood Forest Park that attracted many families for picnics around the barbecues and lakes with ducks.
One Christmas, at the carpenter’s picnic, we ran after Santa, whose jolly red outfit was adorned with lollies and sweets. Can you imagine this bearded man running for his life? At Sherwood, friends would meet for hill slides on pieces of cardboard; tree climbing and fossicking for seed pods and insects. It was so much fun.
Finally, my childhood days were filled with creativity. My father bought me a copper enamelling kit with powders, a burner, and tools to make jewellery. I created coloured paper glass pictures using silver foil and paint. I made coat hangers from tiny, coloured plastic beads.
I also enjoyed puppet-making and sculpting from egg cartons. From toilet rolls, fabric, and other bits from mum’s sewing basket, I fashioned dolls, figurines, gift cards, and macrame. The craft-focused side of me grew confident, arty, and independent, so once I had the materials, my imagination took over.
Growing up in Graceville captivated the girl I was, and now, am today – a retired woman, grandma and author living in a beautiful mountain village. Through those formative years, I was allowed freedom, self-expression and a safe home to play and grow.
My wish today is that children in every country, suburb, or place nurture their God-given talents, learn new skills, stay open to surprises and hobbies; above all, to enjoy the time that allows them to experiment, love and give something a go.
Marg Gibbs
Doodles On Light
From the surface of our sun star, the light rays take about 8 1/2 minutes travelling to 300,000 miles per second and 93 to 95 million miles to reach me here on earth. This blows my mind.
I’ve heard that in space with no atmosphere a beam of light is unstoppable to infinity unless a visible barrier, a planet or gas cloud becomes an interruption. It doesn’t just fade. You would think it would get tired, and run out of energy.
Here near the tree sized magnolia – a “Little Gem”, there is a golden glow touching everything now. Dappled light is flickering like Morse code as leaves and saucer-like white flowers are ruffled by a light easterly.
Gossamer silk is moving in the breeze lit by a streak of sunlight as the reflected glow runs up and down a dancing spider’s thread.
Steadfast and persistent, open space amongst the branches gives light the opportunity to penetrate and show its significance.
Tiny spider is backlit by the sun as he billows on his thread designing his next clever insect trap. Now he is climbing back up his line of silk -perhaps making more or rethinking his decision.
Miniature tan and dark umber birds flit from branch and leaf catching light on wing and beak, or silhouetted black against the sun’s vibrancy today. I envy them their joy and lightness. Summer is almost gone and warmth and golden light are fleeting.
Our little sunbeam through the lush magnolia is moving now as the earth rotates and the sun “sets”. Of course it doesn’t set, it just disappears from our view over the edge of the range while illuminating out of sight, new elements of topography, vegetation, mountains and rivers.
The sun is low and is showing off its golden Midas touch. The cockatoos are heading home down to their roosting trees beside the lake and arguing out of sight.
Man has much endeavour but the sun has billions of years of energy to continue to bring light, heat and purpose to our struggling earth.
The entire western sky is orange and soon the electric blue of the Australian evening will be astounding too.
Barbie Hooper