In the tiny village where my parents live there are three streets.
One is the main road, which does a loop along the line of the river, and is the only way in and out of the "town".
Another is the dirt road that goes up Bells Hill, a winding, rutted road only really travelled by the people who live on it.
The third is the road my parents live on.
It has the most houses, and unlike Bells Road it's actually paved. Large double blocks line the street on both sides as it makes its way casually up the hill and down again.
Nothing has really changed, nothing drastic anyway, in all the time I've known this place.
A few extra houses, some new families, that's about it.
But recently one of the farmers has sub-divided one of his paddocks. A new road has been added, which I'm still trying to remember when I think of home. New houses, on small single blocks, are slowly being added to our tiny sleepy little village.
It's an odd feeling, to know that people I've never met will be wandering around my childhood haunts. That this town, where I know every face, will soon be a bit less familiar.
The fact that I'm moving to Brisbane doesn't really help, because when I get back it will be all the more startling to see the changes.
Life is change I guess, and it doesn't exactly bother me, it's just...odd.
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