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Hollow Log

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2013-12-29 11.00.51

I sit here on a hollow log
once a majestic tree
at peace with my surroundings
I close my eyes and breathe

Her scent fills my body
sating the hunger within
the trees, the grass, the flowers
the earth from which they spring

I feel the spirits lift me
I’m a body no more
my soul has been set free
allowing me to soar

I see all the creatures
both the big and the small
going about their daily lives
I hear their distant calls

The trees whisper their secrets
I hang on every word
at one with all of nature
I have so much to learn

I see her true beauty
different stages different zones
many levels within
Maiden Mother Crone

I soak in her essence
allow it to integrate
the wisdom that she offers
in gratitude I take

I return now to my hollow log
at peace and so alive
ever grateful for healing
Mother Nature provides.

Trish Johnston 14th June 2015

Toast to Australia

Toast to Australia

Lamb chops on the barbie
Throw some prawns on too
Sit back and have a coldie
What does our day mean to you?
Is it all about tradition
The thongs and hat and zinc
The joking Aussie ocker
There’s more to it I think
We have a blessed existence
In this land we call our own
Although there’s great confusion
With all the different time zones
We have every season
On any given day
Be sure to pack accordingly
Before you go away
We are a friendly nation
Or so the others think
Pull up a stump and chat
And we’ll shout another drink
We don’t go chasing kangaroos
Up the city streets
And koalas are not really bears
That’s all tongue in cheek
We have the galahs and cockatoos
With their rowdy rawkus cries
And of course we have the feathered ones
Who clutter up our skies
We have every sport imaginable
Cricket, rugby, league, AFL
Bowls, tennis, Iron man
Far too many to tell
We also have our culture
The arts, entertainment grand
Reflections of the character
Of this wonderful land
So crack the top off a cold one
Pour a glass of wine
Let’s drink a toast to Australia
The greatest country we can find…

Trish Johnston 26th January 2011

Spear Creek… all good things must come to an end. Par 10

Spear Creek… all good things must come to an end. Par 10

Well, it would appear that the fault was more serious than first thought. I was up and showering yet again at about 5.45am after not a lot of sleep at all. Very unpleasant to wake with my hair plastered to my skin feeling wet enough for me to think I had already had a shower. I decided there and then that it was time for me to move on. The predicted heat wave was upon us and without air-conditioning in my room my sense of adventure was being tested to the full.

By the time Sharon came and saw me at about 8am to say that word had been received that it could be 11am or better before power is restored I was already almost completely packed up. She encouraged me to move on as she assured me that it was only going to get hotter and there would be no respite. At least she and Graham have a generator which they can run and use their air conditioning. As we stood and chatted the last of the vans from the camping area trundled past us; it seemed that I was not the only one looking for cooler climes.

I felt it was rather a sad way to leave my little haven. I would much have preferred to leave with an ache within because of having to leave it behind although it was nice to have been able to make the choice with a positive outcome to look forward to… at this stage the positive outcome may only have been a trip in the air conditioning in my car but anything was better than the prospect of another day in the heat with no respite.

After yet another cold shower I finished off my packing, which I might say went extremely well considering that I had bought a new sizable esky. I was a little concerned that when it came time I may not have been able to fit everything in again but by then the ice had melted away to just iced water and the esky could be used as storage for all those bits and pieces that you seem to accumulate which don’t have a home.

I snapped off a couple more shots of Spear Creek and once again sent a thought of thanks to my friend for suggesting it to me as I drove over to the office to settle up my rent for the past 6 nights. Oh, of course! There is no power and so there are not electronic payment options and who, in this day and age carries cash on them? No worries, Sharon is happy it take my details and charge my credit card when the power eventually comes back on. She is also very generous in discounting last night by over 50% because of the lack of air-conditioning. Good old country hospitality.

As I drive out with the dust billowing behind me I wonder where to from here. Do I go Melrose, one of my favourite places in South Australia for a night or two, or maybe even stop at the Mt Remarkable National Park and see if there is a camping space available there. I head in to Port Augusta to grab a quick bite to eat and contemplate my options. It is such a relief to be driving on the rough road and have no rattles accompanying me.

After a quick Macca’s breakfast I set off again. Mt Remarkable National Park seemed like a good option to me, if a relatively cool spot is available. As I drove, very careful to stick to the speed limit after receiving my first ever speeding ticket on my way out to Port Augusta the previous week, I relived the past week in my mind. How fortunate am I to have the ability to just pack up and do as I chose to do, at least while I am on leave from work anyway. Wouldn’t it be heaven if I could live somewhere out in the country again and spend my time writing and taking photographs? Something to aim for in the future. As I approach the turn off to the National Park I see a hand written sign stuck under the road sign saying that due to the extreme conditions the Mt Remarkable National Park was closed. Well, the decision has been made for me. Adelaide, here I come.
As I drive through Lochiel I stop to photograph the salt lakes there. It is disappointing that they are not bright pink or mauve as they often are when I drive past but they are still worthy of a picture anyway. Further on down the road I see dust swirling through the air. The wind is blowing hard and the top soil of the recently worked paddocks was being blown goodness only knows where. I did not stop to photograph it unfortunately, I wish now that I had.

As one adventure drew to a close I knew in my heart that there would be more to come. I have my tent and the rest of the gear required now to camp whenever I can get away from work. I have made a promise to myself that I will get out of the city and find other areas where I can experience the solitude of the country side. Now that I have taken the first step so much opens up before me. With a light and easy sense of freedom I head back to my suburban life, knowing that now I have taken the first step in a new and exciting journey.

Thank you for joining me in my experience. I look forward to sharing many more with you in the future. My friend assures me that there is another place which I will love even more… stay tuned, hopefully I can share it with you also.

Spear Creek…On a more serious note. Part 7

Spear Creek...On a more serious note. Part 7

30th December 2013

Oh, what bliss to wake up this morning and hear the wind outside while I am in my luxurious little room. It makes one feel quite smug until I think about the fact that I came out here to camp and what I am doing now is certainly not tenting. Oh well, at least I had a good night’s sleep last night and the toilet is much closer for the middle of the night call out.

Yesterday afternoon I took a drive up into the ‘real’ bush camping area of Spear Creek. I sat for some time in amongst the beautiful old trees in the dry creek bed. It is difficult to imagine water flowing through the creek but it is obvious that it does from time to time as there is debris caught in various places along the way.

As I sat giving myself over to the energy of the land I heard voices drifting on the air. It is true that we leave an energetic ‘footprint’ where ever we go in life. Here at Spear Creek there are many such energies, however the strongest are those of the aborigines of old. Their spirits linger in this place where they lived many years ago. I see camp fires burning, children playing, women chattering while they work, men working pieces of wood with stone axes and flint knives. A peaceful and contented scene. I feel that in other areas of the property there has been unrest. I do not know the history of the area but I know from within that this is quite a significant place in the indigenous history of the area.

I drive back through the gate, feeling very honoured to have been given an insight into this wonderful place. As I stop to open the gate I hear my Dad’s voice telling me that you always leave a gate as you find it. Never pass through a closed gate without closing it again after you. This became second nature to me and my siblings at a very early age but not everyone had the same education. I see that the gate on the walking track had been opened and closed but the latch had not been fastened. Some people have obviously not experienced just how clever horses really are.

My next stop is the shearing shed. The first thing that hit me was the smell. How familiar that was! Lanoline in its most natural form. Somehow a shearing shed always smells dusty also. As I walk through I remember playing in the shearing shed on our family property, the holding pens where the sheep were kept awaiting selection by the shearer, the chutes down which the sheep were released after they had been shorn. Outside in the yards there are a couple of sheep, I wonder are they there for slaughtering, crutching or what the reason is. I see a stand of lamb marking cradles where the young male sheep are held to be castrated, once again the memories rise of days in the yards as a child, when castrating, tail docking and ear marking were the day’s activities. Those stories are worthy of their own telling somewhere down the track.

The shed is on a rise on the property and the views are wonderful. One side are the Flinders Ranges and the other side the ocean at Port Augusta. Not far from the shed there is a house. What a glorious place to live.

I return to the deck at the front of my unit which juts out into the bush. What a pleasure it was to sit out there and listen to the Kookaburras laughing at me. A barbeque to cook my sausages on while I enjoy my evening drink, life doesn’t get much better. Well, at this stage I think the only thing that could actually make it better would be to have someone special by my side who understands my love for the bush and how I will forever be called to places like this to restore the balance within… the serenity.

To be continued…

Spear Creek… Not again!!! Chaos and Solitude Part 6

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29th December 2013

Okay, now this is getting past a joke. Every time I settle back into my comfort zone here something comes along to bring me out of it again. Last night was very cool, in fact I would say cold. I snuggled down under my beautiful mink lion blanket, fully clothed as well and then before I went to sleep I had to fetch my sleeping bag out the boot of the car and opened it up and spread it over me as well. Nice and snug I went off to sleep for a few hours.

I was woken at about 3am by the wind… again. I was not too concerned as I had come through the previous extremely winding night without any problems, but it was still difficult to sleep. I dozed off and on until about 4.45 when it was obvious that the wind was picking up and the gusts were becoming stronger and stronger. As I lay there wondering just how strong my tent actually was one of the guy ropes was pulled out of the ground. Now I had a problem. I knew that the best thing to do would be to remove the fly completely as it offered the most resistance to the wind. The trick though was how on earth was I going to be able to do that on my own? Visions of Mary Poppins floating through the air with her umbrella came to mind. That was ridiculous of course because I would never have the grace and poise of good old Mary; I would go kicking and screaming with no sign of the beautiful serene smile that she managed.

Another guy rope let go, the peg flying through the air. The wind began to get in underneath the tent, I could feel the air mattress lifting and dropping under me. This was quickly becoming less than fun. I worked out that the wind was coming in cycles so I waited for the next strong blow and as soon as it let up I unzipped the tent and clambered out. Thank goodness it had been cold enough to sleep fully dressed!

I thought that the tent looked like a contortionist from where I lay inside… that was nothing compared to how it looked from the outside. The fly had to come off before the wind either wrecked it or blew it away completely. Thank goodness I didn’t have an audience as I was taking the fly down. I am sure that to an observer it would have been quite entertaining; in fact a couple of times I even chuckled myself, or may it was that I was verging on hysteria.
Once the fly was off and stashed safely in the boot of my car I could then take a breath and snap a couple of photos. I had not thought to take photos earlier, but then if I did maybe there wouldn’t have been anything to salvage. After the photos I left the tent to fend for itself and took myself off to the communal kitchen area for a coffee. Thank goodness I became a non-smoker many years ago otherwise I would have burned up a pack in no time. Sharon, the caretaker, came over a while later with a very dry “I’ll bet you didn’t get much sleep last night.” I assured her that I would either have to pack up and go home, move to a more sheltered site or alternative accommodation because there was no way I was going to brave the wind again that night.

The wind continued to blow until late morning. Eventually around lunch time it eased and by mid-afternoon it was almost perfectly still. Just in time for me to take it all down and pack it away and move into a motel style room a little further away from ‘my’ tree but at least out of the wind. I really find the wind to be very unsettling. It sets me on edge and makes me feel very unsettled. I remember having a conversation with my Mum once where she said much the same thing. A gentle breeze or even a brisk one can be very nice but a hard blowing, gusting, continuous wind is not my cup of tea particularly when I am in a tent and have no way of getting away from it.

The day started off in absolute chaos but fortunately serenity has once again been restored.

To be continued…

Spear Creek….Ahhhhh what a perfect place to write…. My place of Solitude. Part 5

Spear Creek....Ahhhhh what a perfect place to write…. My place of Solitude. Part 5

28th December 2013

What a stinker of a night last night! Soooo hot and still for the most part. Of course, the wind picked up again around 2am but not as bad as the first night. The air con whirring next door may have made me feel it even worse.

I woke nice and early, the sun was not yet sneaking over the top of the ranges. How lovely it is to lay there and read without the heat and the flies. I was tempted to turn on the radio and make a bit of noise but I know what it is like to be camping with tired and cranky kids so I restrained myself.

I ran into Clem (with the trail bike) in the communal facilities. He and his family are on their way to NSW after 6 months in the Northern Territory. They went up there for a holiday and ended up staying for a while with work being very plentiful. He thought it was time to return home and see what needed doing at his place. He assured me that if I didn’t mind living in some rough areas I would find work without any problems in the Territory. Apparently they are screaming out for workers in all fields. I wonder……

My chat with Clem was the first time I had actually spoken with anyone since my arrival. It was lovely to exchange pleasantries and a bit of light chatter and then go back to my little piece of paradise.

I was sitting drinking my coffee and contemplating the scenery when Sharon the caretaker came and introduced herself. She asked how long I planned on staying and was not at all surprised when I said I had no idea. A lovely friendly lady, she said that she and Graham were off to town (Port Augusta) for supplies and did I need anything while she was there. I assured her that I would be heading in myself before long and thanked her for her kindness. Just the perfect type of person to be looking after this place.

As I made a mental list of what I need, ice and maybe a decent new esky being the priority, one by one the others around me began to pack up and leave. By the time I was ready to head into town I was once again on my own!

On the trip to town I once again saw the emus. Not so many this time but obviously it is a place they like to hang out. I wondered for a moment whether it could be an emu farm but then when I looked at the state of the fences it was obvious they were not there to keep the emus in.

On my return from town I noticed a clunking noise in the front driver’s side of my car. Uh oh! Maybe I should not have spent that money on the new Waeco Ice Box! Oh well, what is done is done. Fortunately I do actually know a mechanic in Port Augusta and a lovely fellow he is too. I will have to get him to take a look at my car and hopefully repair it for me.

It was so nice to return to Spear Creek and ‘my’ tree. It has been a lovely place to rest and rejuvenate. Even better when there is no one around and one can feel as though they are the only person on earth.

I received a message from a girlfriend asking me what my plans for New Year’s Eve were. I don’t think she really understood when I said that I still didn’t know if I would even be back in the city by then. Not everyone feels the same as I about the bush but now that I have found this place, thanks to my friend’s recommendation, I am not at all keen to leave it.

As I snap photographs of some of the bird life I think to myself….Ahhhhh what a perfect place to write…. My place of Solitude.

To be continued…..

Depression…. Part II

Depression.... Part II

It is interesting to note that while we are in the grip of depression we truly feel that there is not another living person who can possibly understand what it is that we are experiencing. We feel that we are totally alone and destined to remain that way for even if we could bring ourselves to a stage where we could actually contemplate a relationship who could possibly ever want to share a life with someone so screwed up and insecure? We never ever consider that there are many many people living with very similar burdens as we are.

It is indeed true that about 1 in 5 (maybe even more) people suffer from some form of debilitating mental illness at some stage of their lives. So many suffer in silence, too engulfed in their despair to realise that people truly do care and that help is right there at their fingertips, if only they could see it. Instead, typically, we tend to allow ourselves to sink deeper and deeper into the black hole which is consuming us. We isolate ourselves, very cleverly managing to function through out the times when we are with others only to, at the very first opportunity, scurry back to our ‘safe’ place where we can hide from everything for a time.

I live alone and I enjoy my own company. I am an introvert by nature which means (according to a wonderful psychologist I shared my angst with) that I find that when I am with others I feel drained. I need time by myself to rejuvinate. Alone time is good for my soul, or at least time in company which is unobtrusive and undemanding. I find that I can spend weeks on end doing nothing much more than going to and from work, eating and sleeping. It eventually culminates with a need to escape into the country. The minute I drive out of the city I feel the weight start to lift off my shoulders and my mind begin to start to peek out from where it has been hiding. I cannot wait to go into the bush. Sometimes I pull the car over and take a little stroll or even just get out and breathe in the air, allowing peace to fill me and settle my weary mind. I may take my anti depressants religiously but they are very strongly aided by my afinity with the bush and its ability to cleanse me of my ‘crap’ so to speak. I take copious amount of photographs so that when I return to the city I have the memories of the bush to lose myself in. I imagine it is difficult for those who do not have the love of the bush to understand just how therapeutic it really is for me. We each have something which lifts our heart and feeds our soul. If you do not know what it is then I suggest that you explore and find it. It could just save your life!

Peace and tranquility

Peace and tranquility

As I sit in meditation
in my small suburban lounge
I feel your spirit beckoning me
vivid images abound

the sounds I know so well
the rustling of the leaves
as they sway too and fro
caressed by the breeze

birds busily chattering
as they go about their lives
ever watchful, careful
to ensure they survive

old man ‘roo dozing peacefully
under clear blue skies
there is naught to bother him
but the persistent buzzing flies

the emu’s constant pecking
at the seeds blown adrift
now nestled on rich red soil
as through the rocks they sift

soaring eagles far above
as the currents lift them high
only to plummet rapidly
when a tasty morsel they spy

I wish that I could stay here
lost in the visions of my mind
where this peaceful tranquility
is not so hard to find

It’s tough being a country girl
lost in the city for a time
I look forward to these moments
When I am yours and you are mine.

Trish Johnston 18th September 2013