Canberra in those heady, early 1980s—a city without a soul; a big country town full of politicians and fat cat public servants; a sterile man-made landscape of straight roads, roundabouts and perfectly manicured lawns; a capital city without a true identity, struggling to establish itself as a national icon and landmark within the vast continent it governs.

But in spirit Canberra is none of these things. To the youth of the times it is a city of growth and excitement. The soul that is not supposed to exist is there, you just need to know where to find it. Within this bushland city, that soul is being nurtured by the people who live there through the dry, hot summers and the icy cold winters—and the magical autumns and springs in between.

Just out of school with jobs and money to burn, the youth play the game of life to the full with little regard for the consequences. It is through their eyes Canberra acquires its soul as they grow, mature, and begin to question what it is all about as friendships dissolve, old loves are rekindled, ideals eroded, and events unfold so quickly that they have little say in where they are going.

This is their story; cars, work, booze, women, sport, parents, mates, pubs, music, parties and fights. Happy, sad, joyous, tragic, ridiculous, nostalgic, even idiotic, occurring all within the context of the city in which they dwell. And yet in this life lie lessons for all ages as we witness the changes that occur as the years slip by unnoticed and unheralded.

These were great days, the days when we were young—the days from summer to summer.