James clued me in on a little secret discovery on Saturday, after we had been to the Maritime Museum and the Police & Justice Museum. There is a sort of triangular park formed by the intersection of a couple of busy city streets and the Cahill Expressway, and in this park is an oddity.
(Technically, once James and I were there there was actually 3 oddities, but that's just muddying the waters. So let's keep on-topic, shall we?)
The centre of the park is a gentle mound covered in a bizarre assortment of stone architectual fragments. A piece of carved doorway here, a lintel there...
Neither James or I know anything about it, whether it was conceived as an art installation or maybe just a gesture on behalf of the city council towards rememberance of lost glories. It's a strange place, and for an architecture nerd like myself a little depressing. I looked at some of the beautifully carved fragments and could only dream what the original buildings may have looked like.
Maybe it's a sort of Fairy Ring, a gathering place for draftsmen piskies, builder brownies and stone mason sprites? Or a home for arcane and secret Masonic rituals?
Sure, probably not. The explanation is probably a lot more prosaic, I agree. Still, it makes for an interesting park and feels a little like you've stumbled across a small scale mystery. A little oasis of strange bordered by busy roads and glossy skyscrapers. I think cities really feel alive when you encounter these sorts of things, interesting public spaces, public artworks where you least expect them, or evidence of layers of history and occupation.