My Happy Place
The winner from our first Writing Challenge!

Your browser window currently does not have enough height, or is zoomed in too far to view our website content correctly. Once the window reaches the minimum required height or zoom percentage, the content will display automatically.
Alternatively, you can learn more via the links below.

There is a place not far from Flinders Street Station, along the bank of the Yarra River, that’s at the centre of everything I love about Melbourne.
I’ve partied in the gardens just across the river during Midsumma, dancing with friends as the sun set. I’ve joined the procession of footy fans cross it countless times on the way to the MCG, and it’s where I met Warin, who would become my closest confidant.
Warin has listened to my drunken rants, tolerated me climbing on his back as we chat and, most importantly, has been with me when I felt down and needed someone to listen without judgement.
Birrarung Marr is my happy place, and I thank Warin the Wombat for welcoming me there.
For a while, I had to visit Warin from a distance, separated by the wire fence put up during upgrades to the riverbank.
While our visits weren’t exactly the same, and despite the distance, I knew he was still there for me.
At first I was sad when the fence came down and Warin had gone, but then I learnt he had found a new home and I felt better knowing that he would make his new home a happy place for someone else.
Birrarung Marr will always be my happy place, and for that gift I thank Warin.
I look forward to returning soon, but for now I’m on the other side of the fence.
There is a place not far from Flinders Street Station, along the bank of the Yarra River, that’s at the centre of everything I love about Melbourne.
I’ve partied in the gardens just across the river during Midsumma, dancing with friends as the sun set. I’ve joined the procession of footy fans cross it countless times on the way to the MCG, and it’s where I met Warin, who would become my closest confidant.
Warin has listened to my drunken rants, tolerated me climbing on his back as we chat and, most importantly, has been with me when I felt down and needed someone to listen without judgement.
Birrarung Marr is my happy place, and I thank Warin the Wombat for welcoming me there.
For a while, I had to visit Warin from a distance, separated by the wire fence put up during upgrades to the riverbank.
While our visits weren’t exactly the same, and despite the distance, I knew he was still there for me.
At first I was sad when the fence came down and Warin had gone, but then I learnt he had found a new home and I felt better knowing that he would make his new home a happy place for someone else.
Birrarung Marr will always be my happy place, and for that gift I thank Warin.
I look forward to returning soon, but for now I’m on the other side of the fence.
There’s irony, hypocrisy, fallacy, a vast ocean of distance to cross. The “saint”, the “sinner”, it’s lunacy, that the ignorant could save the lost.
I’m not belle of the ball, not the very least, but we have something in common, I’m in love with a beast. But the beast is not a person but a drug that I call meth, I’ve been talking to myself for hours, I’m running out of breath.
Our team was blown away by this beautiful painting.