At the moment I’m back working in the city in one of the high-rise office blocks. High-rise in Auckland isn’t as tall as many other cities, and usually equates to around thirty floors. I’m on a floor halfway up with a great view of the harbour. The building is close to St. Matthews church, and from my window I look out at the top of the tower.
You get a different perspective of the city from that height, and I guess when the church was built in the first few years of the 1900s it would have been one of the tallest buildings in the city. Now, the church is dwarfed by many of the bland office blocks.
The only constant is change, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but change nevertheless.
Language is another of those things that is constantly evolving. Flicking through an Enid Blyton book recently, I was reminded of frocks and sixpences, and a world that no longer existed even when I first marvelled at the Faraway Tree and wanted to go on adventures with the Famous Five.
Text talk and abbreviations seem to be a totally different language, but I remember comments my parents made about my teenage-self and friends and our conversation, and then I think of some of my favourite Shakespeare quotations. It’s the same language, but very different.