an Australian tradition from the skies

THE usually thunderous explosions of the ‍Australia ‍Day fireworks sounded like a muffled popping from inside one of our City’s iconic towers. For years I had trawled the streets with revellers and families alike in search of that perfect spot on the foreshore. I had seen the Skyshow from Riverside Drive, from South Perth and one year from my hilltop street in Woodvale. This year, from level 30, I watched a sea of people flood out of the City streets. I saw camera flashes across the river and fighter jets scream past to soar high above Kings Park. But I did not stand sideby-side with people of all nationalities and sing the National Anthem. I heard no shouts of Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi Oi Oi. What it gained in sight it lacked in emotion. We lug our cooler boxes and picnic chairs, we wear our flag capes and sing songs with strangers not for the million-dollar show but because we are proud to stand together and celebrate the place we call home. Next year you’ll find me on the foreshore.

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