Tuesday, 4 December 2012

A poetic moment - clearly I'm craving some space!

The Australian Cowboy 

 

Time.
Lots of it.

Space.

Is it any wonder that the beautiful landscape of the outback creates beautiful people?

The intricate designs left by the wind in the desert sands are reflected in the weathered and lined face of the cattle musterer.
Old before his years, he is a nice old guy for a younger man: quiet, unobtrusive.

Alone, but not lonely, he is to be found amid his orange vastness of sand, with his dog, his horse, his cattle, his hundred’s of miles and his thoughts.

Time.

Lots of it.

Space.

Colours.
In the daytime, minus the storms, the endless sky, like a sea above, is the most incredible sapphire, and only the flocks of galahs can pierce pink upon it, or the cock-a-teels, white. Likewise their cries maybe the only noise to invade this serenity, teasing one another over the hushed herd. Even his dog rarely barks, finding other ways to communicate.
Colours.

Against the jewel sky, the brick red pindan earth strikes a discord of the most unique kind, only nature can be this inventive and successful.

Space.

Littered with termite mounds and silver spinifex.
The night sky he sleeps under, is all the comfort he needs.
Everywhere here is his oasis.

Time.

Lots of it.

Space.

He thinks a lot.

Tranquility.
His cattle are grazing. They’ve found a water hole and the heat of the day, is evaporating.

The cattle musterer, slips silently down off his black smooth horse, giving her an affectionate, firm slap.

Reaching his worn palms into a blue-jeaned pouch, he produces a red kerchief, which he drags along his perspiring brow.

He squints into the lowering sun, and dips his Akubra, until he can barely see past its adored brim.

The dust rises as the huge herds push forward for the now churned-up wet.

In another week or so he and his cattle will be at a station Northwest of the Territory. Population: approximately ten, and that will suit him just fine.

Somewhere he can have a cold shower and a cold beer and a chair.
Just to sit, contemplate and dream. 
He’s saving up for a farm, his own ranch in the Pilbarra. For him and his dog.

And just a lot more time.





I've linked this piece up with: http://www.vevivos.com/prose-for-thought/