At going down of the sun, and in the morning...
Today is the 25th of April. A year of the centenary of the arrival of our forces on Gallipoli's beaches, and also a day where the shops are open for 3 hours this afternoon and hence I have to work. But this day, on its own, separate from meaning of fallen heroes and triumphant survivors, is a good one. I'll tell you why.
I got home late from work last night, and instead of readying myself for the early morning walk at 4:30 to Nobby's Beach to experience the dawn service, I pedalled my way to Bec's place to help her assemble her brand new bike. Not ready to go home, like the feeling you get when you're just about to pull into your street and your favourite Van Morrison song comes on and you can't possibly end the drive quite yet, I rode through the midnight along the foreshore and clouded thoughts with the quietly dazzling lights of sleeping boats and street lamps beyond me. When I finally got home it was 12:30 and I was asleep by 1 am, awake and out of the house again by 4:30 and walking through the dark to the beach.
It was strange watching hundreds of cars silently passing and streamlining in one direction, like they were the animals boarding the ark, two by two. I finally got to the beach and just sat, listening to the words of old veterans and being shaken by the sounds of videos of the war, which surrounded and echoed through the foreshore park, as if you were there if you just closed your eyes. War suddenly became very real to me and I was caught off guard.
After the canons were fired the mass exodus of people to their cars and homes swept me along with them without much thought. The day was a dark grey, the wind whipping wildly and the sea surging and twisting at its every beck and call, as if it were the puppet of the wind, attached by strings. I made my way along the esplanade and ended up in a foggy little café right along Newcastle beach with beautiful bearded baristas, tasty coffee, and everyone either completely silent (either in reverence or just due to sheer tiredness) or chatting away freely. The room smelt good, but I didn't stay.
And it's just thinking that the people that go and serve for our country and go to serve others are the ones that make a day like this possible. For the simple act of me grabbing a coffee at 6am to fuel my day, or for the fact that our streets are paved and we live not in squalor or poverty as a normality. The way in which our people are supporting our communities and our countries through aid and military force and however we do things back home also has greatly impacted what we are blessed with today. So cheers, guys. You've been remembered, just as we said would happen.
