you’re turning 90 today hanging there in the whip and sizzle wave crouch and ferry slouch and a breeze unhindered by iron beams or the galloping of flag ripples remember De Groot? borrowed steed charging for Fascism dodged Lang, sword sang and a ribbon dropped to dirt classic Aussie tuppence flipped on a dirty palm but who cares? your shadow’s there and harbour’s twinkling striated eye, cuppa sky it’s grand, you’re grand morning like fanfare sun bling strewn on picnic-day blue inspiring shutter snap and Lennie Gwyther who rode from Vic on Ginger Mick aged just nine that was for you it’s all bloody brilliant
The Sydney Harbour Bridge turned 90 today. I wasn’t aware of this milestone until about 4:30 this afternoon and I’m not usually one to wax lyrical about anything that could be perceived as nationalistic fervour. But the fact is, when I used to live in Sydney and catch the train into work, every single time I went over the Harbour Bridge, I made sure to stop reading or writing or daydreaming and stop and look out. I love the harbour and I love the bridge. It’s a freakin’ beautiful place.
Image from Australian Traveller