One Square Kilometre

If I draw a one kilometre square around my home, it is full to the brim.

There are the university grounds, broad and green, with a lake where ducks paddle and students sprawl on the grass. The dog loves it there — it’s our favourite loop.

There is a nearby forest where neighbours play badminton, dogs run free, and walkers pass with nods of recognition.

Across the road, the Metro hums with energy. Every four minutes a train slides in, and in just 20 minutes I can be in the city. I hardly use my car anymore. Most days I walk or ride the train, letting the world carry me.

Not far away, the bush thickens into the Great North Walk, a trail that stretches all the way to Newcastle. I do bush regeneration there, walk sections of the trail and sometimes imagine following it the whole distance.

This square kilometre holds the world: forty nationalities in our college, which is also reflected in the shops, faces, and voices around us.

A shopping mall stands across the road, convenient and complete, while nearby cranes swing above, raising towers into the skyline. A 59-storey giant nears its finish.

Up the street, a whole new neighbourhood rises — apartments, schools, child-care centres, and a community hub. The soundtrack here is traffic, hammers, and drills. Growth is noisy.

And yet, in all this, I love the nearness. I love that what I need — forest, transport, food, community — all fits within a circle I can walk.

My life here is lived on foot. My square kilometre is big enough to hold both the bustle and the bush, both the noise of construction and the quiet of morning walks.