Marcia Street and Lane, Hurlstone Park on Saturday, 18 July 2020
I think I have never been to Hurlstone Park. To the south, it is bounded by the Cooks River. Wikipedia says: “Some of the suburb is an oasis of heritage, with a village atmosphere valued by the residents. It is potentially threatened by changes to zoning and increased high-rise development.” Marcia Street looks like such an oasis. It has mostly Federation family homes, tall trees and a park at the end. Not everything looks entirely idyllic. I am warned that a guard dog is on duty and a fading Australian flag is draped over the dusty, cluttered windows of a brick bungalow.
Marcia Lane makes me happy. It’s that type of lane I love to discover. First, turning right from Marcia Street, there is a row of closed-down grocery shops in Duntroon Street, one has a ‘For Lease’ sign. From another, I hear the voices of adults, children and television. People live here.
Around the corner, there is a low brick house that has a white wooden cross near the entrance door. Chinese music, interrupted by drilling and hammering noises, comes from a place opposite. The lane slopes downhill and curves to the right.
In the corner I find a cat sitting next to stacked chairs. On the other side is a family home with barren grapevine branches covering the roof of a terrace in the backyard. Next door an orange tree, bearing fruit, has extended its branches around a palm tree. The lane ends at the park and the backside of the small block of flats from where I started. It has a unit for lease. I could consider it. The light is beautiful, breaking strongly through dark clouds.
