The Reassurance of Hills

To be surrounded by forested mountains,
Is to be embraced in a hard, cool, freshness,
Much like a firm hug,
From a parent straight from an ocean swim.
It is comforting and invigorating.
Wet body - cold,
Smell - unpolluted, natural, familiar.

To run about on a grassy hilltop,
Is to feel as free as flying.
Wind fills your hair and lungs.
It caresses your skin,
And the warm sun smiles,
Down on your upturned face.

After driving for many hours on monotonous plains,
I look out for the hills on the horizon.
It seems that my soul requires,
The reassurance of hills.

In Bed in the afternoon.

It is delightfully decadent to be lounging in bed,
In the afternoon.
Five unsupervised.
But I can hear their voices,
Occupied in various levels of activity.
The cluck and clatter of scooters on concrete.
 Rhythmic as they clear each expansion joint.
In the kitchen banana smoothies are in production.
And the blender whirrs.
No doubt at least one will be curled up with a book.
But I am warm and the pillow welcomes my heavy head.
My naked skin too, the comfort of soft cotton against it.
There will be consequences for retreating like this.
But right now,
It is the weight of my weary body resting in this comfortable nest,
That is my primary focus.

In Nature

Scratches, bruises, sunburn,
And the song in my heart,
Pay testament to this short time,
Spent in nature.
Lungs filled with freshness of clean air
And the sweetness of pittosporum blossom.
Laying down my cares on the warm earth.
Sleeping in the shadow of leaves,
Beneath the myriad of slow moving stars.
Waking into morning's dew filled coolness.
Feeling alive and vigorous,

Blue versus Grey

It was two things,
The blueness,
Between billowing clouds,
That slowly sailed across the sky,
And the warmth of the sunshine,
That kissed the bare skin of my face and hands.
It was these,
That lifted every aspect of my being.

The soft dry ground on which I lay.
And the caressing breeze,
That played like a lover with my unfastened  hair.
Added to the effect.
I could smell the familiarity of frost-seared grass,
And hear the country sounds,
Of those on hoof, paw and wing.
And I felt calm.

But all too soon,
Despite the patches of blue,
The sun's warming rays were taken prisoner.
By a cold grey cloud.
I was suddenly frozen to the core.
My idyll broken,
I went inside,
To the warmth of the fire.

Delayed Gratification

I mourn for the loss of delayed gratification.
When life was simple and choices few.
When waiting for the next ball or picnic races,
Was exciting.
But we can no longer wait and we needn't.
Our pace increases with the loss of each local service.
No longer doing the weekly shop in the local village.
Time is spent travelling the hundreds of kilometres
To the doctor, dentist even the supermarket.
Local sport, entertainment gone.
Wait for the next blockbuster movie to wend its way to the bush?
Download and watch,
Right now.
My back has moulded into the form,
Of my car's drivers seat.
I have a closer relationship with that, than my hiking boots.
It seems these devourers of time,
Give us less opportunity to enjoy,
The rapture of anticipation.

Sleeping on a Mountain Top

The climb was hard,
Leg numbing, chest burning, hard.
And all the more dangerous,
For being executed in moonlight.
Although like midnight, the top would inevitably arrive,
It was a most longed for object.
The promise of rest was all that guaranteed progress.
The stops became more frequent and the rocky inclines
More treacherous and steep.
At last it was achieved,
And among the rocks, on uneven ground,
The tent was erected.
Sweat soaked body became chilled,
And gratefully accepted the warmth of the sleeping bag.
Despite the chill and the rocky bedfellows,
Sleep was as unpolluted as the fresh crystal air of the clear night.
Unmolested by any discordant cacophony of thoughts.
Perhaps being physically closer to heaven,
Sets the mind above the incessant buzz. 

Snail - Mail and the excitement of gratification delayed.

What has happened to those dual emotions,
Excitment and anxiety,
That come of expectation,
As you await that return letter.
By 'snail mail'.

Now when we have a single thought,
Banal or brilliant,
Generous or mean spirited,
With one click,
We can share it.

And to not just one correspondent,
But to possibly millions.
(If the content is 'voyeur-worthy' enough.)

And to ease the anxiety,
Of the anticipation,
Of a reply,
One click.

So we dull the anxiety.
But what of the excitement?

Invigoration

What is it about the combination of wind, rain and outdoor activity,
That causes such invigoration of the soul?
I was very tired,
Up far too late last night.
Yet,
Being out in the paddock,
Moving soggy goats and their shelter.
Pulling down electric fences,
And tramping through the paddocks,
Just made me feel alive.
My nose was runny and wet cool hairs streaked across my face.
My clunking gumboots even had a leak and a stone.
Yet,
I had a smile in my heart.

An island of Time

In the maddening rush of life,
Busy with matters of consequence,
and inconsequence,
We do not make an island of time to:
Stop!
Think for pure enjoyment.
Meditate.
Love each other,
and ourselves.
Switch off and tune out.
Do absolutely nothing.
Be grateful.
Pray.
Dream.
Feast all of our senses.
Be present with our family,
And friends.
Or just rest.
May every person take one day each week and find,
Their island of time.

Three Ravens

Three Australian Ravens,
One on each post.
Looking across,
A Monaro pastoral idyll.
In the late afternoon,
They sit still as sentinels.
What care they for the hub bub of the 21st century?
The day is mild and the food plentiful.
They have no better occupation.
I ask you,
What is contentment?