Friday Photos: Angel Of Semaphore

Close: War Memorial clock tower and angel

In 1925 this war memorial and clock tower commemorating those who fell during the First World War, was erected on the foreshore at the ‘foot’ of Semaphore Road, in the suburb of Semaphore, Adelaide, South Australia.

Although this series of Friday Photos is titled, Angel of Semaphore, the monument is obviously not called that. However, colloquially the locals refer to the statue on top of the clock tower as either the ‘Semaphore Angel’ or the ‘Angel of Semaphore’, and that’s good enough for me.

Closer: Night falls over the seaside suburb of Semaphore

I shot this series of images late one evening after going for a long walk along the beach, which is a great way to relax and gather one’s thoughts after a long tiring day at the office – not that I worked in an office, but you get my drift.

Closest: the Angel of Semaphore keeps an eye on locals and visitors

Maybe I should have called this post, Close, closer, closest. Then again, maybe not.

It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve walked past this War Memorial, I have always taken the time pause and look at the angel. Lit up at night, it makes for a particularly captivating image, and I know I am not the only person to have tried to capture the monument as the sun sets in the west, and another long, hot summer day draws to a close.

-o0o-



The Aussie Way Of Greeting

Signage on Stuart Highway heading north from Adelaide

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There's a great tradition still taking place on Australian country roads that has been around for many years, and long may it continue to be so. This tradition involves the practise of acknowledging complete strangers (but fellow travellers), as you cross the nation's highways.

This acknowledgment takes the form of a slight raising of the fingers of one hand just as two vehicles travelling in opposite directions pass each other. It is almost like a mini salute. You rarely have to take your hand completely off the steering wheel to execute this manoeuvre, and it can be so fleeting that if you are not paying attention, you could easily miss it.

I was delighted to see this practise still in use on a trip to Port Lincoln a few years ago (a round-trip distance of around 1300kms).

I don't know if this is a uniquely Australian practise, but it must surely be in danger of dying out as the years go by, and more and more cars take to our national highways. At some point it becomes impossible to acknowledge every driver you pass during a long trip. There are just too many travellers to greet. But it was not always so.

Back in the day, when we went on an extended drive through Australia's bush, there were far fewer travellers on our country roads. Back then, before the nation's major highways were even sealed, we would often stop and chat with fellow travellers to learn about the road conditions which lay ahead. Back then, you could travel, literally for many hours without seeing another vehicle on the road. So when you did encounter another car, you would always stop for a brief chat with the other driver.

Now of course, it is completely different. It is very rare to travel anywhere along our national highway system, and not encounter a continuous stream of vehicles, large and small on the way to somewhere else! Now, too, almost everyone carries a mobile (cell) phone with them, and you are never more than a few hours between country towns, roadside truck stops, and other forms of human contact. Add to that the increasing use of GPS systems, and it is almost impossible to get lost or be out of contact with another human for more than a couple of hours at a time.

I was thinking about all of this on my trip to Port Lincoln, when I began writing what I thought might be a song on the subject. In the end, it seems to have turned into a poem, but all it takes is the addition of a melody to turn it into a song, which I may yet do. Anyway, here it is...

THE AUSSIE WAY OF GREETING

© 2006, Jim Lesses. All Rights Reserved.

When you're driving on the highway,

And you want to say, "G'day"

To a stranger that is driving

Down the road the other way.

Just lift a coupl'a fingers,

Point them up towards the sky.

It's the Aussie way of greeting,

So go ahead, say, "Hi".

It's the Aussie way of greeting,

Nothing flashy, nothing grand.

Nothing over ostentatious,

Like the waving of a hand.

It isn't Regal; it isn't Papal,

It's never coarse, and never rough.

It's the Aussie way of greeting,

Understated - but enough.

It's the Aussie way of greeting,

From the people of the land.

If you ever need assistance

They will always raise a hand.

They will never leave you stranded

They will help you share the load.

It's the Aussie way of greeting,

And you will find it on the road.

It's the Aussie way of greeting,

May it live forever more.

May you never be too busy

Fellow travelers too ignore.

May you take the time to send one,

May it brighten up your way.

It's the Aussie way of greeting,

So raise your hand, and say, "G'day".

New York City Apartment Living

Image: Apartment blocks overlooking the Hudson River, New York City

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Many years ago I spent a year living in a small apartment in Adelaide, and from memory, I must say the experience wasn’t all that bad – if you discount the neighbors from hell who constantly fought and argued, and who eventually did a ‘runner’ after leaving their rental next door trashed.

I should say, at the outset that Australians are not big on apartment living. Most of us grow up on suburban quarter-acre blocks, with large back yards, covered with swathes of green lawn, numerous trees and shrubs and other vegetation. The idea of living in a multi-storied apartment block with neighbors potentially residing above, below and to both sides of us, does not cause the heart to beat with anticipation and excitement. So it was with a sense of some trepidation that I approached my two month apartment sitting appointment in New York over the summer months of July and August, 2010. However, I needn’t have worried.

While there are no doubt ‘neighbors from hell’ living in New York apartments, the building I was calling home for eight weeks in the upper Manhattan suburb of Washington Heights didn’t include them. In fact, if it wasn’t for the occasional meeting of fellow residents in the building’s foyer or basement laundry, I could have spent two months thinking I had the building to myself. I was aware of no screaming children, no barking dogs, no blaring televisions or music, and no domestic arguments from my neighbors – although from time to time the occupants of the apartment immediately above mine did sound like they were taking part in an exercise class, judging by the thumps and bumps on the floor/ceiling.

Most New York apartments are notoriously – umm, compact. Well, most of them are anyway. Having said that, apartments can range from tiny one bedroom studio units to plush penthouse accommodations that occupy whole floors of new or renovated buildings – as the following image shows.

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Yes, folks, that’s a three bedroom apartment each of which has its own en suite bathroom, with a spare fourth toilet for visitors. Needless to say, apartments like these are not for the average working Joe, and the place I stayed at was certainly on the modest size.

However, that doesn’t mean people spend their leisure time cooped up in cramped apartments, sweating away their evenings in front of their televisions. At least not all of them. I soon learnt that apartment dwellers – on Manhattan in particular – love to get out of their cramped digs whenever the opportunity allows to meet their neighbors in local parks, on sidewalks, to walk the dog, or to just rest on benches watching the world go by.

In deed, after going back through my blog entries I am surprised to see just how often I have written about my impressions of New York City park life, including Central Park, Shakespeare in the parks, my New York promenade, and others. Clearly, this notion of 'park life' made a big impression on me, but the popularity and utilization of New York City parks also testifies to the importance they play in the life the city’s residents.

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Image: Streetscape of apartments in Washington Heights, New York City

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I don’t know if all New York apartments have laundry facilities in their basements, but mine did, and it was a great convenience to not have to go down the road looking for the nearest launderette when washing day was due. In a previous post, I also wrote about the excellent collection of books that could be found in the basement ‘library’ of my apartment block.

Another thing our building contained – as do many other New York apartments – was a fallout shelter. I couldn’t tell if there was a separate space for the fallout shelter, or whether the basement did double duty as laundry and shelter facility. If the laundry does double as the fallout shelter, it is going to be very cramped and uncomfortable down there, as I assume many other similar shelters will be. Needless to say, I hope it never has to be used for the purpose for which it was intended.

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Image: Typical fallout shelter signage… ”Duck – and cover!”

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Another aspect of apartment living I found interesting was the number of pets that New Yorkers keep in their apartments. I myself was caring for two cats that never leave the confines of the apartment I was staying in, and I’m sure they are not the only house cats that spend virtually all their lives indoors. Dogs on the other hand need more space to run around in, and every evening a motley collection of canines, large and small took to the streets with their owners – or paid dog handlers – in tow to sniff trees and garden beds, and deposit their droppings wherever they saw fit.

Thankfully, most owners did the right thing and collected the droppings their pooches left behind, but some did not, and it was always worth paying attention to where you were walking in case you brought some of the poop back home with you. In deed, a New York aphorism has it that you can always tell the difference between New Yorkers and visitors, because the visitors are those who are constantly looking up at tall buildings, while the New Yorkers are always looking down at the pavement trying to avoid the dog poo!

After two months living in New York apartment I was sorry to go. It was a luxury most visitors will never get to experience, and I am delighted to have had the opportunity of living like a local. It’s an encounter I will treasure for many years.