Wallowing
You may – or may not – have heard about the rain in these parts?
I realise some of those around the ridges (further south) may be a little sick of it, but me? No way, Jose. I have been ready for a flood from the first drops. Ready, willing and pantry stocked to the max. And Nikon primed and stuttering at every vivid green-and-grey view like a raging machine gun. Bear with me while I wallow a little longer in the lushness we find ourselves surrounded by. I know for sure it will not last. And these rainy day pages will undoubtedly be among the most-visited by moi when dry weather again takes a stranglehold on our part of the world… Wallow with me?
~.~
This series is from the Bunyip Hole.
Invaded not only by streaming water…
but by birdlife who look for all the world as if they never left…
Seriously? Swans in a paddock where a few weeks ago dust was blowing…
My favourite of all native trees, groves of gorgeous blue gum trees…
The rushing sound of the floodwaters is as insistently cleansing to my senses as the rains that gave them life…
And the stream tumbles and roars around newly-created islands…
Singing it’s anthem of new life around tree trunks and giant knotting roots…
Before racing headlong to fill creeks and tributaries and dams and rivers…
perhaps in the days, weeks, months ahead to wriggle through to the ocean.
Leaving behind calm, content waterholes.
Happy to lie in wait for blue skies and hot suns.
Reflecting the stillness of draping trees, polished grey branches and the ancient myths of bluegums and bunyips.
Just like me.
