In a Word: Diversity

by The Editor

Spring

This time of year is fantastic! So much promise, like in the springtime of my youth. Golden wattle everywhere. Fuchsia and ivory pashmak blooms on cheery cherry trees. Lengthening days. Thawing…but it’s not always this cheery.

A well-seasoned Canberran knows the party’s over when April comes round. That is, it gets cold. Real cold. Negatively cold. But each time it happens I’m positively happy. There’s a sense of cosiness to it. If we were Danish we would be spluttering hygge all over the place. But we ain’t. Still, it’s a great excuse to bust out stylish coats, boots and scarves for wanders through wafts of wood fires and gentle germinations of graceful glaciation.

Winter

I do concede that Canberra’s hygge has its limits, especially if you find yourself single during the deep dark winter. NB Grads coming to Canberra, two things:

  1. Congrats on getting through the bazillion interview rounds, what type of animal would you be if you had to choose again?
  2. For body heat alone, it’s most convenient to get a partner before the end of April. Or, failing that, two hot water bottles. The double pronged approach. You’ve been warned.

Autumn

Autumn is a treat with surround sound of changing green to amber crimson hues. Spring, the cocky, self-assured beauty that she is, arrives with cotton candy flourishes, and hayfever. So much hayfever. And those pesky magpies who think they own the joint. Who’s to say? Maybe they do. Maybe it’s a Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy deal where the magpies are actually the smartest animals on earth. They could just be in cahoots with the dolphins. I’m onto them.

Spring 2

Summer is hot. Capital H-O-T. Dry. Sweaty. That’s all there is to it.

But that’s what I like about this capitol idea capital: the diversity of it all, the range and breadth of what each of us experiences in a twelve-to-thirteen moon cycle and how we have the opportunity to appreciate each season for what it is (and look forward to what it’s not).

Summer

Spring wouldn’t be nearly so sweet without having endured the winter. That first real warm breeze is magical, igniting fresh floral scents as it travels. Autumn is a golden respite from the summer sweats and summer is festively placed for classy coasting, having survived magpie and hayfever doom. So on and so forth. Cyclic…in a beautifully diverse way.

 

By Olivia Balint

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