Canberra Planned

It seems like – we can’t for­get those who planned this city. Craf­ted and draf­ted it with eyes and hands focused and reach­ing out with anti­cip­a­tion for this very moment now. Where we’ve fledged and flown from the first dry blue prints, ink­ing trans­la­tion from script into built real­ity like bleed­ing stones to build each plot­ted pre­co­cious home. Ahead of time, along the the high­way, straight sky­way point­ing spine of the road-planner’s organ­ism. The Cartographer’s con­cepts con­densed and con­struc­ted – finally – now we are in the imagineer’s euto­pia. Roads slightly wider, less wilder, tress pleas­ingly planted and parks. So there’s less chaos per­haps. More sat­is­fac­tion of geo­met­ric, angles and frac­tions. No nervous tick. For those who like symetry and paths without tricks.

In other towns. Some­times there are aspects. of this. An half a sub­urb, crawled and curbed by vis­ion and hands cur­taled and cour­ted by plans. Streets, lit by meas­ured widths of street lights flick­ing out against stary nights. Some­times the feel that the streets have been re-ruled, a new vis­ion as the city is tailored to the eye of its new heir. Build­ings estab­lished with pride and care, to stand proudly as a pilar of fresh thought­ful indus­tri­ous air.

As you head north, along the coast, some­times the feel that these arms of the sub­urban animal lurch and wheele. Nights become milder, the plans wilder.

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