Outback – Page 2 – Rural Romantic Ramblings

The Nature Show

My shoes sink slightly towards the gravelly edge of a red muddy beach. It’s where the bitumen road disappears under the floodplain giving life to this red-dust riddled land. The water mirrors the early morning’s azure blue sky, casting the illusion of an inland sea saturating the wilderness. Where, like a tattered crochet blanket, contrasting plates of green water lilies and beads of white, pink, and purple flowerheads open to greet the sun’s new day.

The scene was so serene at first glance.

But on closer inspection…

Chaotic.

Imagine a musical Broadway production going through its final preparations before the show begins. Showgirls, dashing between costume changes are the bright colourful Rainbow Lorikeets and Ring-necked Parrots darting across the water. Egrets stretch their legs like perfectly poised ballet dancers. And looking every bit the musical Conductor overseeing his orchestra in a rich navy plumage is the statuesque Jabiru wading on the water’s edge. There is a low humming of instruments being fine-tuned by the assorted bugs and beetles, as the Choir warms individual choruses via differing fly-by flocks. Lastly, the hidden stage technicians lurk beneath the water, being the Crocodiles, Barramundi, and long-neck turtles that silently direct stage props and actors to their places.

I flick my fishing lure into the water where the road disappears into this tropical oasis that only occurs a few months of the year. Standing there, as the sun creeps higher as the only spectator, I can’t help but enjoy the show.

(250 words)

11/04/201913/03/2019 by Mel A ROWE

Road Rogue

‘We gotta do it.’

‘Don’t want to.’

‘Have to,’ he said, holding out the lifejacket. ‘Coppa’s already onto us.’

‘But, not like this?’ Her unlaced boots tapped on the dirt as she snatched up the yellow life preserver and slipped it over her ponytail.

‘I don’t wanna do this either.’ He passed her a motorbike helmet.

‘Can’t we do it another way?’ Slapping the helmet on her head, he secured the strap beneath her chin.

‘Sure, we could sell tickets? Recoup our costs? Maybe fetch a profit to go towards our next one.’

‘But the Coppa might show up.’ She screwed up her nose. ‘Or worse—grown-ups.’

‘Reckon they’d ruin it.’ He held out some swimming goggles, a pair of flippers, and a snorkel. ‘D’ya want it?’

‘Why not.’ She slipped on the hard-plastic swimming accessories. Through her goggles, she peeked at the drought-riddled farmlands where a crowd had gathered on bicycles, motorbikes, and saddled horses. ‘I’m ready,’ she said, taking a large flipper-flapping step over dry cracked earth.

‘We got top-shelf.’ He pulled her upwards and her bare knees shimmied onto the hot tin roof where they both gripped onto the metal tripod.

‘Only coz of your welding lesson’s.’

‘That’s about to be tested. Ready?’

Goggles and snorkel adjusted as plastic flippers tried to grip onto the hot metal and their small hands clasped onto the steel tripod. ‘Yeah, let’s do this.’

His foot stamped on the roof. ‘Let ‘er rip, Blu.’

The engine inside the dented, door-less, Datsun roared into life. Black smoke vomited from a missing exhaust pipe blanketing its bullet-hole riddled exterior. The wetsuit-cladded driver and co-pilot, lifted their helmet’s visors, gagging for air.

‘GO. GO. GO.’ She shouted from the roof with her knuckles whitening and her heart raced.

Beneath bald tyres, red dirt showered upwards like an inverted waterfall. Clang-attee-clang-clang the matchbox-rubber-banded engine rattled in its unsecured bedding. It Kangaroo-hopped with a crunch of gears. The chassis rattled rust free while groaning and shuddering onwards.

The crowd screamed with their arms waving in the air like whip-wielding jockey’s, urging the mashed-up mini-monster to move.

Down the dirt track, faster, and faster, they headed for the small rise. Black exhaust thickened like rope disintegrating skywards. The rat-a-tat-tat of the egg-beater’s-engine mixed with excited screams of chasing children.

‘Here we gooooooooo.’ His hand covered hers gripping the welded spotlight’s tripod. Both fought the urge to close their eyes behind fog-encroaching goggles. Smiles widened in the dusty hot wind that whipped against their exposed skin.

The engine screamed along with its passengers and with an almighty roaring rush, wheels left the rubbly rise, and as if on invisible wings, the hunk of junk flew.

Over the sun-soaking railroad track.

Over the sparkling, scattered white pebbles shining amongst the struggling weeds.

Over the shadows of the squat scrubby hill, and…

SPLASH!

Into the dam.

Brown bore water washed over the car like a tsunami chasing a surfer.

The internal passengers exited door-less gaps and splashed for the screaming spectator covered, clay banks.

A simple pirate flag, painted on Nana’s sheets, waved from the tripod. Like captains on their sinking ship, the diving-clad-duo saluted the crowd from the roof of the vehicle they’d gone road-rouge in and escorted their toy to its watery grave. ‘That Coppa aint gonna find it now.’

First published 17/08/2015

(557 words)

from ‘MOVING MOMENTS’

21/03/201923/05/2019 by Mel A ROWE

One Eyed World of Wonder.

From slumbering darkness, I’m whipped into bright light and warm air – but where?

In the car, balancing on the steering wheel, we’re roaming a new road. Be it dirt, sand, or asphalt, I’ve been there, crossing countless kilometres, to scan sunsets, sunrises and storm clouds. I’ve felt the wind, the smog, and arid desert dust, and sweltered within the humid monsoons. But nothing is scarier than to cringe against a bushfire’s slickened heat, where wounds and memories are healed within the smooth roll of cool salty seas.

I’ve faced wide-eyed green tree frogs awakening for the change of tropical seasons and kissed sand covered dog noses. I’ve flinched at a Barramundi’s watery tail-flick propelling above water-lily riddled billabongs. It was a place to track a sea eagle’s wingspan that’s mirrored across stilled waters at dawn’s first light.

I’ve been swallowed amongst the street mazes, darkened alleys, and shifting crowds. Dodged bike wheel rolls and rumbling engines. Stooped before hovering helicopters. Eyed roaring planes soaring above skeletal cranes, peppering overpopulated city skylines.

Yet, I’ve basked in this galaxy’s starlit skies of silence, while camped on secluded summits to watch the eclipsing blood moon spread shadows across the desolate outback.

I’ve witnessed weddings, celebrations, and ancient mystical ceremonies. The loud and proud singing shouts of team players. And yet, I still heard a child’s whispering wish follow a falling star.

This world contains much beauty which my owner wants me to see. As I aim, focus, snap and save, with hope of sharing and keeping what they see is true.

Then I’m shoved into darkness once again.

Brought out, stripped down. Memory’s downloaded. Battery’s re-charged. Lens cleaned. Then packed away. Ready.

And I wait.

Until my eye’s re-opened to capture another small part of this planet’s picturesque magnificence.

(300 words)

First published 20/10/2015

from ‘MOVING MOMENTS’

14/03/201923/05/2019 by Mel A ROWE