And the way I like that name, The Levee.

It is protective but gentle – soft consonants and those three e’s – and how I know well what a levee is, know how it feels under foot, know how it’s curved and grassy and nice. 

The Levee...

And I like the way those men down there have been working together on our glorious street. I’ve seen them down there building those round things that I’m-a gonna sit upon one soft sunny day, and maybe have me a milkshake and read a book I bought from McDonald’s – the original McDonalds.

The way I’m-a gonna do that.

And I don’t know their names, those men down there shovelling and bending and heaving in the Maitland summer; don’t know who they are, but I seen them there making things better for us all – seen them there on our famous street.

And I was wondering if they ever thought about the other men who done built the rest of this street.

I was wondering if sometime, when they were having a drink and maybe looking up from the ground, if they noticed one of them beautiful curves and facades, if they spared a moment to consider that they were now part of a grand history – that they were also building High Street,  Maitland.

And the way I was wondering if they ever tried to imagine the long gone stonemasons and bricklayers and carpenters and such who, down through the years, had done what they was now-a doing?

I was wondering if, despite the heat and the stiffness of their backs and aches and the cuts upon their hands, wondering if they felt good about building the High Street, about making The Levee.

And I was thinking about say, the workers, who in the 1800s who were high up there on the Post Office and Dimmock’s building smiling and talking to each other, and how they might have walked over to the Carrington Hotel or to the Exchange and had them a cold beer on some distant February Friday. 

Or if they was up there thinking on their own worries, making plans for winter, or maybe how they were gonna ask some Maitland girl to marry them. 

I was thinking about that when I saw them down there working... 

And I was wondering where they were from these blokes and that are down there working – and I thought it don’t really matter, since so many souls done come through this street and stopped awhile or stayed for good – kinda like we all did.

And the way I always liked that about here and the town; that you can be from somewhere else and be made welcome, stay for as long as you want to stay – I always kinda liked that about here...

And the way I reckon they’re grand these people, these makers and builders of stuff – and how I can’t do that there work, the way I don’t know how. 

But I’m glad they do, glad they’re tough enough to turn an idea into a physical reality – glad they’re not just talk, glad they came here to old Maitland, the river town, glad they did.

And I reckon I will have me a milkshake down there, reckon I’ll probably walk down there with my people, say G’day, maybe to you dear reader.

And the way sometime down in the future, sometime hence after a few of them fresh’s have gone below the bridge, I’ll think of them men who done made the street all new and good again. I reckon I will...

And even if I don’t particularly like it, even if it ain’t particularly everyone’s cup-of-tea, well I reckon I’ll think of them people down there making The Levee.