Inspiring and Entertaining Writing - Writers International

My town, my home
by Carrie Harris

It was the town I grew up in. Where else could draw me back but a place where one could stand on the edge of our mighty nation, and breathe in the soul-refreshing scent of salt in the air?

I stand with my face turned to the breeze, and watch the fishermen in their boats. A pelican glides gracefully past and settles on the jetty, talking earnestly with his friend, the seagull.

Peace washes over me as I stand here looking back over my life. Somehow the magic of this place cleanses me, soothing bad memories.

My mind is filled instead with sunny days spent splashing in the water with my family. Dad teaching me to cast a line, Mum teaching me to swim; my brother and I teaching each other what it means to be family ...

Yet, on the other side of town is a different view. Vast oceans of shrub, vehicle tracks that lead to nowhere in particular, yet everywhere at once.

Old campfire sites wait, where persons unknown have shared a beer. Dusty tracks and old roads lay resting, popular for reasons known only to them.

They say this is where the outback meets the sea. As a child, I wondered about that, but now I think I understand. It is the meeting place where two different worlds become one.

One side of town, a person can look out over the endless ocean, and stand in awe of it's beauty. On the other side, a person can imagine he is a traveller, exploring a strange new land for the first time.

This town is a gateway, a shadow of possibilities. Like life, this town has many roads. One road leads to peace and beauty, a place of tranquility waiting to be touched, discovered and beheld. Here all problems seem to disappear. Another road, however, leads to dust and desolation. Beauty is hidden here, but can only be found by those who trouble to seek it.

It is this contrast that I love. Always the same, yet always different. Times change, people change, but the essence remains the same. Each day brings a new discovery, a fresh testimony to God's unfailing mercy, yet all the while there is familiarity. You know you belong.

I'd stayed away so long, all the while resenting this town. I thought that leaving this place meant leaving the past behind. I was wrong. I'd run away, but the past followed. Relentlessly followed.

How wrong I was. I'd told myself this town was the problem. Even so, something unknown had drawn me back. Something unknown had called my name.

As I stood here at the water's edge, gazing out over the endless ocean, I knew what it was. The salty breezes, the beaten tracks, the people and the memories ...

This town is a part of who I am. I am home.


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My town, my home by Carrie Harris It was the town I grew up in. Where else could draw me back but a place where one could stand on the edge of our mighty nation, and breathe in the soul-refreshing scent of salt in the air? I stand with my face turned to the breeze, and watch the fishermen in their boats. A pelican glides gracefully past and settles on the jetty, talking earnestly with his friend, the seagull. Peace washes over me as I stand here looking back over my life. Somehow the magic of this place cleanses me, soothing bad memories. My mind is filled instead with sunny days spent splashing in the water with my family. Dad teaching me to cast a line, Mum teaching me to swim; my brother and I teaching each other what it means to be family ... Yet, on the other side of town is a different view. Vast oceans of shrub, vehicle tracks that lead to nowhere in particular, yet everywhere at once. Old campfire sites wait, where persons unknown have shared a beer. Dusty tracks and old roads lay resting, popular for reasons known only to them. They say this is where the outback meets the sea. As a child, I wondered about that, but now I think I understand. It is the meeting place where two different worlds become one. One side of town, a person can look out over the endless ocean, and stand in awe of it's beauty. On the other side, a person can imagine he is a traveller, exploring a strange new land for the first time. This town is a gateway, a shadow of possibilities. Like life, this town has many roads. One road leads to peace and beauty, a place of tranquility waiting to be touched, discovered and beheld. Here all problems seem to disappear. Another road, however, leads to dust and desolation. Beauty is hidden here, but can only be found by those who trouble to seek it. It is this contrast that I love. Always the same, yet always different. Times change, people change, but the essence remains the same. Each day brings a new discovery, a fresh testimony to God's unfailing mercy, yet all the while there is familiarity. You know you belong. I'd stayed away so long, all the while resenting this town. I thought that leaving this place meant leaving the past behind. I was wrong. I'd run away, but the past followed. Relentlessly followed. How wrong I was. I'd told myself this town was the problem. Even so, something unknown had drawn me back. Something unknown had called my name. As I stood here at the water's edge, gazing out over the endless ocean, I knew what it was. The salty breezes, the beaten tracks, the people and the memories ... This town is a part of who I am. I am home.
A note from the author This story was my entry for the 2004 Whyalla Writers Group short story competition. Although I didn't win, it was published in their compilation 'Where the outback meets the sea'. A copy of the compilation can be purchased from the group for $6 for each book. Although this story was published by the group, I have retained copyright ... which is why I am able to post it here. You know, as I read back over this story that I thought was so amazing at the time, I wonder what possessed me to enter it. Although it has a good basic message, it comes across as disorganised and untidy ... almost as though I had 'padded' it ... I left it as it was written, though, because it's good to look back and learn from past mistakes.