A flutter in time

As a boy the future was vast and untouchable, tempting, full of mystery and promise...

In my memory the known world of my own domain extended from my bedroom, to the back fence and toward the street but not across the road.

I went to pre-school and learned the way home, half a block, past the straggly mallee tree where the rock that looks like a turtle rests, waiting

The street, from our house to the corner and the paddock across the road became my turf

On to primary school and I had a bike! I pushed the limits of what was permitted and rode beyond the field of my parents view. 

I ventured to the creek at the end of the street where micro bats flew out of the pipes that carried water from under houses up the road. There were still turtles in the creek then, but the creek is now a drain.

This was the time of my great expansion. The world began to open broadly before me, as far as I could travel before the street lights came on became open ground for discovery. 

The horse paddocks of the Christian College, the wastelands of the proposed freeway, the derelict aquaduct all were my domain. A haunt for kids like me, proving ground for delinquency. 
We knew these places like the back of our hand. Smoking cigarettes and drinking pilfered wine, lighting fireworks and escaping marauding motocross bullies. We hunted rabbits, collected mushrooms and were always off fishing. 

By High School (Technical School) greater distances were traveled. Kids spent time at the mall, but the Plenty River became my second home. From Partington's Flat to Blue Lake every scrap of clay, all trees, every rock in the creek the weeds, the rabbits, the Redfin and eels, the stink of onion weed, the elusive maiden hair fern and swamp wallaby, the Rosellas and the sugar gliders, the floating pummis rock and the hidden shafts of old mines, the platypus, the echidna, the cow shit and the water troughs, the rusted tin shelter and the horses that follow my drunken self through the paddocks at night, all. 

As I got older cars and motorcycles took me far beyond my territory, by then I couldn't wait to get away, I had a wandering spirit and visited the gorge less every year.

Eventually I moved away but to the gorgeI always returned. Just for a visit, just to say hi and to ground myself in 'My' country.

Over the last couple of years it's been a great joy to see Wombats have reestablished their territory in the silty soil of the river flats. Rabbits diminished by a nasty virus. There has been an increase in native animal populations.

The invasive Rainbow Lorrikeet has appeared too and taken over many nesting hollows... Red-rumped parrots and Rosella's are now few. 
Mountain Bike riders discovered the gorge and have made many erosive tracks but the landscape has remained constant despite their intrusion. I haven't seen a platypus for a while the river is not as healthy as it was, but the general habitat has persisted and continued to support a diverse population of many species...

Until the fire...

Now With all the ground cover gone the soil has turned to dust and as expected there has been torrential rain. Soil and ash will be swept into the river and choke everything... Yes given time the land can recover... unfortunately with global warming comes increased frequency of extreme weather events. Time for recovery will not be granted.

The brief period of my existence on this earth, spending time in, on, around the place we call Plenty River I have had the great privilege to know it intimately. I have been a 'part of' it and it is a big part of me. When I walk on it I take off my shoes and I breathe it. I let the hard clay cut my feet and the coarse river sand get between my toes. The thorny wattles have scratched and pierced my skin, mud from the exposed hillside has entered my grazed knees and shins. This river valley has fed me and kept me. I am of it and I will always return. Though my life is a hollow flutter in time, may this gorge keep me my breath, and blood, dust and ash. Return me to the River let my cinders mingle there.